Control
by hazelmom
Summary: His obsession for her will kill her. BA. FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am borrowing these characters from Dick Wolf and NBC, nothing more.

A/N: Hello! I started this a week ago, and am really engrossed in it. My previous story was also a lot of fun. I got some feedback that they jumped into a relationship too early; that it was a little OOC. I really thought about it, and I think that was really good feedback. This story has a little more complexity to it, a little more subtlety. Their feelings for one another are not so easy. I hope you like it.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 1**

**Prologue**

Alex struggled to keep the gun from shaking in her hands. The situation was untenable. It was clear that this was not going to end well. He was only ten-fifteen feet away and she could smell the sweat running down his face. His gun was bigger, unwieldy, and she knew if he hit her, it would be no simple flesh wound. The child behind her whimpered and she backed up a step, pressing her against the wall.

"She's my child and I'm not leaving here without her." His voice felt wild to in her ear.

"No," she said simply. To her right, the man on the couch shifted. Up to this point, he seemed to be merely a victim of circumstance.

The man turned his head sharply at the noise. "Jimmy, don't move. Stay out of this."

She heard no other noises, but she was unable to turn her head to check. "Ronald, just back out of here. I won't follow."

"I want my daughter!"

"No, she's not safe with you. I can't let you have her."

"I will put a hole through you so big—"

Alex snorted, pretending a bravado that existed no where within her. "Then we both die. You won't be the first man I killed, Ronald. Is that what you want? We end everything right now? It's your call."

She wondered where Bobby was. It seemed inconceivable that he wouldn't know what was happening to her in this moment. She had come up to get the child only. She wondered how much time had elapsed. Was it enough to trigger some concern? He had stayed in the lobby to ask the doorman a few questions. Surely, he was starting to get concerned.

As if she channeled him, a knock sounded on the apartment door. "Ronald! Ronald! I know you're in there!"

A sense of relief flooded through her. He not only showed up, but he knew Ronald was here.

"You touch the knob on that door and I'm going to empty my entire clip into your partner. You're going to have to carry her out in pieces!"

"Alex!"

"I'm here, Bobby. It's a standoff. I'm not letting him take Sara."

"Ronald, I need you to let me in. We have to make a plan so that no one gets hurt."

"Tell your partner to put her gun down. I don't negotiate until she does that."

Alex shook her head. "Not going to happen, Bobby."

Goren sounded strained. "Alex, put it down. It'll be okay."

Alex hesitated. Bobby would get inside and do his thing. It was what she had been hoping for all along, but somehow she couldn't do it; every instinct in her body said no. "I don't think I can do that, Bobby."

"Alex, do it!"

Alex shook her head. His need for control had always been between them; this was nothing new. She had always coped; always gave him plenty of room to do what he needed to do. "I'm not backing down! We need another plan, Bobby!" The child was clutching the back of her shirt. She could feel the terror in her touch.

"Bitch wants to go the hard way!" Ronald extended his gun and took a step toward her.

Goren screamed into the door. "Ronald! You have to talk to me! Let me in! I can help! I can talk to her!"

It was a game. She knew that. He often identified with suspects, it was how he gained their confidence, but she could also hear the frustration in his voice. He couldn't take a back seat to this and she wasn't cooperating.

Ronald was shaking all over. "I'm walking away from this!"

"Put the gun down," she said in a low voice. "Your options are gone. You have two choices; you live or you die. What's it going to be?"

"Alex!"

"Bobby, knock it off!"

Ronald's eyes were burning into her hers, and she worked to keep her focus with him alone. She saw movement in his arms; it looked like he was starting to put down the gun.

"Ronald! Let's talk!"

Bobby's voice startled him and he jerked the gun up again.

"Bobby, shut up!" Her arms had started to imitate his convulsions.

Then the man snapped. He screamed and fired. Alex's instincts clicked in and she fired back. Weight sounded against the door and the lock burst. Alex fell back onto the child, and the two of them slid down the wall. Ronald rocked on his feet, his eyes jerking about wildly. The door exploded and Bobby was there, his gun drawn, throwing Ronald into the wall. The man offered no resistance and Bobby's momentum landed him on the floor on top of him. He pulled himself off and noted the blood seeping from Ronald's ruined chest. It was staining his own shirt, and he pulled away, annoyed that he was wearing one of his Ralph Lauren's. Ronald gasped once more and then his head slumped onto his shoulder. Bobby wrenched the gun out of his hand.

The child had squirmed out from under Alex and scrambled into her lap. Alex didn't move, her gun lay limply in her hand, eyes closed, blood trickling from her temple. The child put a hand on her cheek, bobbing Alex's face back and forth. The child yelped and kicked when Bobby lifted her off. He paid no attention to her squawks, tucking her under one arm like a newspaper. He knelt beside Alex, putting his hand firmly over her carotid. "Alex, honey, are you okay?" He brushed her hair away from her forehead to get a better look at the wound. He sat back and searched her torso for other wounds; the child still protesting against his side.

Eames groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

He grunted as if unable to complete a response and then cleared his throat. "You're okay, Alex. It was a glancing shot. Just nicked you. There's no point of entry."

Her eyes darted over his shoulder and he nodded. "He's dead."

Uniforms had begun tumbling through the door. Goren handed the girl off to a female cop and returned his attention to Alex. "You're too stubborn sometimes, Eames."

"You don't trust me enough," she murmured as her fingers poked at the bleeding gash on her head.

Before Bobby could respond, another voice sounded. "She saved our lives. She was so brave."

Bobby turned to find a man standing over them. He was the man from the couch.

"Thanks, Jimmy," Alex murmured.

Goren raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, Jimmy, she's amazing. Listen, they're going to want to take your statement. Go talk to that officer over there."

………………………………………………………………………….

It was midnight before IAB finally released the scene. Bobby answered questions long after Alex had been sent to the hospital. Deakins showed up and generally fussed at investigators until the chief Internal Affairs guy assured him that the shooting looked righteous. Finally, he got the message, packed up his show and headed down to the hospital so he could ride herd over his injured detective.

By the time Bobby got there, she was almost done with tests and Deakins had been banished to the waiting room. Bobby murmured some assurances and convinced the captain that it would be best if one of them got some sleep. The captain left once Goren promised that he would get her safely home.

It was another hour before she emerged. A white bandage marked her forehead. She saw Bobby and sighed. He looked back at her with sleepy eyes. "I haven't eaten in forever."

She nodded. "I could use a couple of eggs before I go to sleep."

They hadn't said three things to each other by the time the waitress set two ranch specials in front of them. Eames tried to order coffee, but Goren scolded her about drinking caffeine with a head injury. She rolled her eyes, but settled for orange juice.

He took two bites, but couldn't seem to maintain an appetite. He leaned back in his booth and looked at her. "What happened back there?"

She shrugged, her fingers toying with her orange juice glass. "We thought he would be at work and he wasn't."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about us. What happened?"

"I couldn't stand down, Bobby. It would have been a mistake."

He nodded. "I understand that, but we're partners. We're not supposed to fight each other like that especially when we need each other the most."

"You need to trust me more."

He shook his head emphatically. "I do trust you. I don't think I have ever trusted anyone more."

"But it was my call. I was in there."

"And I needed to be in there with you."

"If the situation was reversed, you would most definitely have not allowed me in there."

Bobby studied his plate for a moment. "I'm not a fan of hypocrisy. I would want that not to be the truth."

"Bobby, you're the big gun. I'm the one who keeps it steady. Most of the time I'm content to let it be your show, but this time you just needed to listen to me."

He looked out the window. "I didn't know you felt that way."

She waved her fork in the air. "I don't have the languages nor do I have the freakish memory. I don't have your knowledge or your imagination. I can't identify 3500 different scents with my nose. I'm just an honest cop with good instincts and a solid work ethic. There's nothing special about me. Hell, you could get the same out of any partner if you wanted."

"So you want a new partner," He murmured at the window pane.

"No," she sighed. "I do not want a new partner. The partner I have is just fine with me.

I just want your respect and your trust."

"You're not average, Alex. Not one bit. I'm sorry if you've felt like that. I'm sorry if I've not been better at…sharing with you."

Aw jeez, Bobby, I don't know. Let's not feel bad about this. It's been a rough enough day, and my head is starting to pound something fierce. I'm sorry about everything too."

"We still have things to talk about here. We have to make the time."

"We will." Alex dropped her gaze back onto her food and didn't meet his eyes again for the rest of the meal.

……………………………………………………………………………

**Three months later**

Eames' phone rang again. She picked it up and winced slightly at the display. Goren looked up from where he was crouching in front of a dead woman, her hair splayed across a exquisitely expensive marble floor. Eames gave Goren an embarrassed smile, rolled her eyes, and then moved off to the corner of the room to answer it. Goren furrowed his brow for a moment, but quickly returned his attention to the dead female on the floor.

She was 41 years old, but her face was achingly smooth, almost shiny. Wearing latex gloves, he gently explored her hairline. He could feel the distinctive elasticity of a face lift. He rocked back on his heals and cocked his head, regarding her carefully. Finally he stood up, wincing as a large man does when he spends too much time on his knees. He turned, found the M.E. and nodded at her.

Alex was still on the phone, hunched over in a corner of the spacious room, books in shelves from floor to ceiling. It felt odd. She was definitely tense.

"Detective"

He wheeled around to find a uniform gesturing at him. There was a woman with him, her face red and tear stained. He nodded, took one quick look at Eames again before carefully stepping around the body and taking the upset woman by the arm and steering her into another room.

Goren sat down with her in the kitchen. The woman's reaction seemed entirely genuine, and he focused on questions about the dead women's life and schedule. She identified herself as the girlfriend of the deceased and talked about the deceased having a husband who refused to allow a divorce. She looked at him furtively at times as if to find evidence of his moral judgment, but he showed her none of that. Bobby Goren had no interest in judging the lives of people unless they were in the business of murder.

Eames showed up at the end of the interview. He felt an air of agitation coming off her, her cheeks flushed, and he tried to catch her eye, but she avoided him. The grieving woman's sister showed up, and they let her take over. They made their excuses and headed for the door. Bobby leaned over, "We need to look at the husband."

Alex nodded, but asked for no particulars.

"Are you okay?"

Eames looked at him sharply. "Yeah, sorry about before. I took care of it."

"Anything you want to share—"

"Not particularly. Thanks for asking though." Her sarcasm matched her agitation and so Bobby let it drop.

………………………………………………………………….

The husband proved an easy collar. He all but had blood dripping from his hands. Eames let Goren play with him for awhile, and then she slapped a picture of his dead wife in front of him. The man seized as if afraid the photo would come to life. He was clearly not cut out for a life of crime. He became spastic every time Bobby asked him a question. Even his lawyer could see that subterfuge wasn't going to work for his client. After a few whispered conversations, the man almost vomited his confession. He eagerly explained the circumstances and her unwillingness to return to him, and his desperation and the heavy crystal statuette that sat on the table and how it was in his hands before he knew it. Goren didn't press. The man was transparent. There was no other motive, no premeditating factor. It would get written up as manslaughter, and his two kids would spend the next 10-15 years wondering why mommy and daddy couldn't resolved their differences like regular people.

Alex took care of the paperwork while Bobby ran him through booking. She didn't look up when he returned, but she could feel him hovering. He sat at his desk across from her when he got no reaction, and began to shuffle paper in an apparent attempt to simulate work. She resisted an urge to stab him with a sharp pencil.

When she couldn't stand it anymore, she slammed her pen down on the table and took a deep breath. He looked at her with these annoyingly puppy brown eyes, and she suddenly understood the pull of a crime of passion.

Things had felt different since the shootout with Ronald Wick. He treated her carefully and it annoyed her. He overcompensated as she knew he would, and it was all she could do not to blow up at him on a daily basis.

Slowly, she considered her words. "Bobby, have you ever done something terribly stupid and you just couldn't bring yourself to talk about it?"

He nodded and sighed. "I once told a girl I would marry her to get her to stop crying."

Her eyes widened. "Well, uh, thanks for answering a rhetorical question. Um, I have no right to ask, but as you always honor your promises, I am very curious. Why is there no Mrs. Bobby at home right now with the little Bobbettes?"

He winced. "I was a sophomore in college. I paid the star of the football team to ask her out on a date. She was into status. She let me down gently a week later. Now she is Mrs. Larry in Cincinnati, Ohio with three Larrettes running underfoot."

She looked down at her desk. "Can we let my secret just be mine for right now? I need to see if I can set things right."

"Of course," he said doing his best nonchalant. Eames gave him a tight smile as she watched him fidget through his paperwork. It wasn't enough for him, but she felt like it was all she could give.

…………………………………………………………………..

She saw him walking down the street toward her. He was a handsome man, blonde, tall, lanky, almost dapper. His blue eyes were frighteningly intense. He smiled widely at her and extended a single rose. She shook her head in disbelief.

He gave her his most disarming grin. "I know you said not to come. I realize that I'm being terribly disobedient."

She looked down and took a deep breath. "You're confusing me, Jimmy. We talked about this."

"Please forgive me. I couldn't leave things as we did before."

She refused to take the rose. "We didn't leave things. I told you that this was not going to happen. We're not going to date, Jimmy."

He shrugged. "I came on too strong. I said things you weren't ready to hear. This is my fault and I want to fix it."

He extended the rose again, and she took it out of his hand and threw it against the concrete face of her apartment building. "You are not listening to me and that's a problem. There's nothing left to talk about."

He stepped back and pursed his lips. "Alex, there's no reason to be hostile. We crossed wires; that's all. I'm here, humbling myself before you."

"Don't. Please leave. I'm tired." She reached for the front door.

He put a hand on her arm. "I'll be very kind to you."

She wheeled around and slapped him soundly across the face. He stepped back, blinking wildly while she advanced on him, a finger pointed at his chest. "I said no! And it will be 'no' tomorrow as well and the day after that. Knock it off, Jimmy. I don't want to see you here again." She turned around and marched through the door, never giving him a backward glance.

……………………………………………………………………………

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: Thanks to those of you who are reading. I appreciate your thoughts and comments. I have been zooming along. I am 2-3 chapters ahead of what I am posting. I have gotten a little stalled. I had one thing happening for awhile, but now I am thinking in another direction. I'll have to see if this slows the process. It is very nice to hear from you.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 2**

Alex looked at herself closely in the bathroom mirror. The sounds of foot traffic sounded outside the door. She was in the only bathroom for females in the entire building and, as usual, it was empty. The mirror stretched the length of the wall, and she wondered if there was ever a time when the room was filled with women.

She looked carefully for smudges under her eyes. Her mascara always started to stray this time of day. She rubbed a little at the edges of her eyes and looked again. Her eyes looked tired and no amount of mascara was going to make a difference. It felt like she went from being a sweet faced girl to the worn face in front of her in the space of a minute. She had turned into a woman who worked day and night, hung out with other people's kids, and went out on dates with guys when she knew better. She shook her head at her reflection and ran her fingers through her hair.

When she emerged from the restroom, she saw a commotion around her desk. Deakins, Goren, Logan, and a few others were looking at something on her desk. When she got closer, she spotted the white flowers. It was more than ostentatious; it was grotesque. There must have been 4 or 5 dozen white roses in a green vase. They seemed to cover the entire surface of the desk.

Logan spotted her, and one eyebrow shot up. "You really hooked someone good, Eames. This must've set him back, maybe $300. I can't remember the last time someone inspired me to purchase that much vegetation."

Carolyn Barak looked up from her desk and snorted. "This isn't about inspiration, Mike. You're just too cheap."

Alex felt the color rise in her cheeks. She did the best she could to keep her face passive, but she found herself unable to meet anyone's eyes.

"Do you know who sent these?" Deakins asked.

"Are you kidding? You don't get this kind of bouquet from a stranger," Bobby said, cocking his head as he regarded her.

She looked up and glared at her partner. Then she walked to the desk and picked the flowers up out of the vase and stuffed them into the trash next to her desk. She reached for the vase, but stopped short. She knew if she had her hands on that glass it was going to shatter, and she was already drawing enough attention to herself. Instead she turned to her captain, "I need to take some lost time. I'm all caught up."

The embarrassment they could understand. Alex was not someone who liked to be the center of attention, but the anger was another story. Deakins glanced at Goren briefly before nodding. She grabbed her leather jacket and headed for the exit. Goren started after her, but Deakins put a hand on his arm. "She doesn't want her private life here. Let's leave her alone."

Goren frowned at his captain and pulled away, but did nothing more but stick his hands in his pockets and walk over to her desk. He pulled the flowers out of the trash and looked through them carefully. He reached a hand in and extracted a white card. For a moment, he just stood there, the card in his hand. Then he rubbed his face with a hand and looked at it. He nodded to himself, folded the card and put it into his pocket.

Deakins raised an eyebrow. "Is there a story there?"

Bobby shrugged. "An old school friend, I think. Probably an apology…Guess Alex wasn't ready to accept."

"That's some expensive apology," said Logan.

"Nothing to worry about." Goren cleared his throat and strolled away.

…………………………………………………………………………..

The phone woke him. He fumbled for it while squinting at his clock radio. 2:30 a.m. flashed back at him. "What?" he managed into the phone.

"Ah, sorry to wake you Detective."

"I'm not on-call. Go bother Logan."

"This isn't a case…well, not exactly…This is really not my business, but your partner called in a B & E about an hour ago. I'm sure it's fine 'cause she called back about 15 minutes later and said it was a false alarm. It's just that I didn't like the sound of her even though she said she was okay…I shouldn't have called, but I was thinking that if it had been my partner, I'd have wanted to know."

Bobby sat up. "You were right to call. Thank you."

Half hour later he was at her doorstep knocking. He knew she wouldn't welcome him. Things had been prickly between them for some time now, and undoubtedly she was embarrassed about calling in the B & E. She swung open the door and frowned at him. "Whoever told you about this is going down."

He shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Nothing happened. I thought things were missing, but I was wrong."

"Mind if I come in?" He cocked his head at her.

She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. "You put on a suit at 3 a.m."

Bobby looked at himself. "No tie. Open collar. I think I look pretty casual."

"You thought you might have to work," she observed, leaning against the door frame.

"Alex," he began.

"You already knew what you would find when you got here."

He took a deep breath and pointed to the door. "There are no signs of forced entry or scratches on the lock. I think he has a key. When you got home tonight, I imagine you found another offering; flowers again or candy, a gift perhaps. But that's not why you called. Something is missing from the apartment; something that upset you."

Arms folded, Alex looked down at the ground for a few moments. Then she looked at him. "I have it under control."

"We're partners."

"I don't want to be rescued."

He shook his head. "You and I feel very different about this. I don't want to rescue you. I just want to help a friend I value very much."

She nodded and stepped aside. He walked past her into the apartment. He had been there before. It was small but surprisingly Spartan. Her art consisted of family photos. There were no knickknacks, just furniture, pictures and books: lots of books. Her kitchen table was small, and it was there he found the gift. There were flowers, red roses this time, another ostentatious display. And there was a small box from Tiffany. He picked it up and opened it. A chaste, diamond studded cross necklace gleamed at him.

He turned his head to her. "Why didn't we know this the first time around?"

She looked away.

He put the box down and wandered the rest of the apartment. He stopped at the entrance to her bedroom. "He took something from here, didn't he?"

Alex closed her eyes for a moment.

Bobby looked at the ceiling. "He took your undergarments, your lingerie."

"Yeah."

"How long has this been going on?" His voice was low.

"Knock it off, Bobby." She turned and disappeared into her living room.

He found her on her couch, her head in her hands. He sat down beside her. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm worried. Please tell me about this."

She sat up and looked at him. "This is embarrassing."

"It's okay. No judgments. I promise you."

"It was after I killed Ronald Wick in his apartment. Jimmy was really appreciative. I told him it was just part of the job, and for awhile that was fine. But he started calling a month ago. Insisted that he take me out to dinner. I told him I couldn't date people involved with my casework. He was really persistent. He said it wasn't a date. It was merely a gesture of appreciation. He wore me down."

Bobby nodded. "Jimmy Ross was Wick's friend, but we never really looked at him as being an accomplice. He's very charming, handsome; he's a successful software designer, an inventor. He holds three patents, I think."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't looking for a date, but I did allow him to take me out to dinner. I thought he might get it out of his system. Clearly that was a mistake. He took me to an insanely expensive restaurant. Food came out as pieces of art. It was almost too grotesque to eat, and then he started talking about me. He knew things he shouldn't have known. He talked about vacations we were going to take; things he was going to buy me. I tried to reason with him, explain that these things were not possible, but he wouldn't listen. I finally had to get up and walk out on him."

"Ronald Wick was obsessed with Susan Phillips, and he was friends with Jimmy, but we never assumed that their obsessions might be their connections. I can't believe this. Ronald and Jimmy were a completely unlikely pair, but we never questioned what connection they might have."

"Ronald was pretty obvious. We didn't have to work too hard."

"Well, that is, until he had a gun trained on you."

She glared at him. "Let's not talk about that."

"Okay. Okay, but it's starting to sound like these two were friends because of their interest in women, possessing women, especially women who do not want to be possessed. They can commiserate with one another, help each other with surveillance and such."

"I have been rude to him. I've told him to stay away. I have threatened to get a restraining order. Nothing is making a difference."

"He can't see you. You are an object of his obsession. Your feelings and desires have no import for him. He wants you as a possession, a trophy."

"Bobby, why me? If this is true about his relationship with Ronald, then he wasn't worried about being in danger. I just don't get it. I really don't see myself as the trophy type."

Bobby chuckled. "These guys aren't looking for a six foot tall ice blonde with a spray on tan. They're taken in by someone they admire. A woman who might be inordinately kind or friendly. In your case, you were brave and strong. They want those qualities for themselves. And the truth is that you are beautiful. The combination would be intoxicating for him."

Color started rising in her cheeks and she looked away.

"Alex, he's dangerous. Remember what Wick did to Susan Phillips. He dismembered her one limb per day in an effort to get her to acquiesce. He stopped the bleeding each time, and she ended up living four days. If Jimmy shares this intensity, then we're in big trouble."

"I'll get a restraining order."

Bobby shook his head. "That won't even make a dent in his plans."

She looked at him fiercely. "I'll handle this."

"We'll do it together."

She shook her head. "Then people will know. It will look like I was dating him. I don't want that."

"Just let me go talk to him. Let me find out how deep he is."

"So far, he's only a nuisance. I can handle him."

Bobby's face colored. "A nuisance? The man has broken into your home. He has disregarded your wishes repeatedly, and he has stolen intimate clothing from you. What in God's name is going to qualify as a problem?"

She stared down at her hands folded into her lap.

He sighed. "Alex, this is not about your competence. This is about me. This is what I do. I identify. I climb into their heads. It's my gift. A few months ago, you told me that you brought nothing unique to our working partnership. That's not true. You are not in this with me because you're the only one patient enough to put up with it. You're the one who can keep up. You're the one who challenges my thinking. You smooth out my edges. You focus me. Hell, you're the one who doesn't need me." He waited for a response and when he got none, he continued. "Let me go out and do what I do. I want to assess him. I want to know what he's thinking. Maybe I can shut him down."

She nodded. "I'll go with you."

"No. You're a distraction right now. He won't talk to me if you're there."

She looked at him warily. "We're working together on this. I'm not taking a backseat. You meet with him. I'll do some background. We'll compare notes."

He relaxed visibly. "This is what makes us the best team in five boroughs."

She cocked her head at him. "That's good, Bobby. Take that ego out for a little exercise every now and then."

He chuckled softly at her.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

Bobby hadn't taken much time to admire the décor the last time he was in this apartment. His memories of that visit included blood and a screaming child, a dead man and his partner slumped similarly against the wall. If not for those visceral images, he would have taken time to admire Ross's lithograph collection. He had some truly rare pieces and had them artfully mounted on his long living room wall. The furniture was Danish modern; designs that Bobby appreciated.

Footsteps sounded, and he turned to find Jimmy Ross approaching, a glass of iced tea in each hand. He smiled warmly and gave Bobby his tea. Then he gestured at a black leather sectional. "Come. Sit down. I assume we are here to talk about your partner."

Bobby settled himself on the couch. He held the tea politely, but couldn't bring himself to drink it. "You've been pursuing her."

Jimmy nodded. "Yes, I have, and she is proving to be something of a challenge. She's really something exquisite, don't you agree?"

"Well, she would be if she was a thing, but she's a person, and she doesn't want you to pursue her anymore."

Jimmy nodded. "You want her for yourself. I understand that. I respect it, Detective, but I can't step aside."

"Nobody can own her. She is her own person. She doesn't want either of us."

"Have you ever been a collector of fine art?"

"Jimmy, this is not comparable."

"Please tell me."

"Yes, I like abstracts. I have a couple that I really enjoy. They're not worth much, but they bring depth to my space."

"Think of Alex as a Mona Lisa—"

"No, Jimmy, I can't. Alex is not a possession. She can not be owned."

"Ah, but she owns me. Whatever her intentions, she has a stranglehold on my soul. I merely wish to complete the circle."

"I'm guessing that you used to take anti-psychotics. When did you stop?"

Jimmy frowned at him, his smooth face erupting with displeasure. "I haven't taken them in years. I don't need them."

"It makes it hard to create when you're taking psychotropics, doesn't it?"

"And how do they affect you, Detective."

"Actually, I find I'm more creative when I take my medication. Isn't that interesting?"

"I am not a collector. I only want her. She's a culmination of everything that has meaning in my life."

Bobby sighed and leaned forward, looking directly at Ross. "You're bordering on psychosis, Jimmy. You need help."

Jimmy shifted in his seat. "Well, you're bordering on rude, Detective."

"If you don't stop harassing her I'm going to have to arrest you, and I'll keep on arresting you until you stop. Medication is your best bet right now. My guess is you have several projects that wouldn't survive the jail time you would have to serve if you keep bothering her. You gotta focus, Jimmy."

He snorted. "This works out great for you. Tell me, Detective. How many suitors have you taken care of, to date?"

"Detective Eames is my partner and my friend, nothing more."

Jimmy sat back, crossing his long legs. He was a sharp dresser; Bobby could tell his outfit cost more than a Detective's monthly salary. "You're really not going to let this go?"

"No"

"Okay, perhaps you have a point. I have a patent pending right now. I am in something of a race with another manufacturer. Jail time would ruin all my efforts. Let's say we call a truce for right now. In a year, it might be a different story, but I will let you have her for right now."

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Jimmy, this is too easy."

Jimmy shrugged. "If you take my freedom, there is really no point to having her."

"Okay," Bobby said slowly. "It's a deal if you start taking medication again."

He made a face.

"Come on, Jimmy. I'm not letting go until you meet with a psychiatrist and fill the prescriptions."

He smiled. "Well, I can do all that."

"Right, and I'm going to need a release for the psychiatrist because you're going to be getting your blood levels checked every six months."

Jimmy rolled his eyes and launched himself up from the couch. "I'm pretty sure you don't have that much leverage."

"You really think you're going to last a year if you don't medicate?"

Jimmy stood, his hands jammed in his pockets, the tension evident in his posture. "Give me a minute to think." He turned and walked from the room.

Bobby got up and sighed. The whole thing hadn't felt quite right, but he had to start somewhere. He reached for his cell and hit a number. "Hey, Eames, I think we might be getting somewhere. I'll be down in about fifteen minutes, I think. Order me one of those coffees you like so well…No, he's a little hinky still, but he's a businessman, and I have to believe he understands compromise…No, no, remember I said I was going to eat healthy. See if they have a bagel or something, no cream cheese…bye."

He heard no sound from the other room and so he began to stroll around studying the lithographs. There were times that Bobby wished for more financial freedom to pursue his aesthetics, but he realized that it would feel empty if his moneymaking wasn't of the purpose he felt when he was avenging murders. It was a choice he had made a long time ago, and one he had made his peace with.

He heard Jimmy's footsteps and turned. The man seemed resigned to his situation and gave him a sullen look. Bobby opened his mouth to seal the deal when he noticed the odd contraption in Jimmy's hand. He reached for his gun, but Jimmy had already activated his stun gun. Bobby seized as electricity ripped through him. He reached for something to steady himself, but it was clear that Jimmy's homemade stun did not have safety settings, and he found himself unable to control the voltage running through him. He fell, his back landing on a coffee table. The shock ended but he found he couldn't control his muscles. Then Jimmy was there with a baseball bat, and Bobby struggled to raise his arms.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: Thanks for reading. You seem enthusiastic and that's exciting to me. This story is really a roller coaster. I am trying to stay in character so there is not much in the way of declarations of everlasting love. I am focusing on their connection to one another as I would see the two of them play it out. I appreciate your comments.

Sheila

Chapter 3 

**Control**

Her cell phone went off and she sighed. Bobby was changing his mind about the bagel. He did this incessantly, ordering and reordering two or three times when they went to eat. She picked it up and spoke, "It's too late. I already paid for it. I am now going to handle it so that the counter girl sees, and you will not be able to make an exchange."

A chuckle sounded that sent a chill through her.

"You have five minutes to get up here before he dies."

"Jimmy! What have you done?"

"You can't play me like this; sending him up here to just take over my life. It's ridiculous."

"I want to talk to my partner!"

"I am assuming you're at the coffee shop across the street. I need to see you coming out of there now, and making your way into this building. You have 4 minutes, and 30 seconds to grace my door way."

"Does he need an ambulance? Let me call—"

"No! You stay on the phone with me. I have already hit him once in the head with a baseball bat. You hang up and I'll do it again. It's hard to swing with any real force when you're talking on the phone, I think."

"I'm on the street."

He could see her running across traffic, swerving around cars, the sounds of this being amplified over the cell. "Be careful! You are no good to me if you're hurt."

She disappeared under the awning of his apartment building.

"I know you're going to bring your weapon. I won't stop you. You'll just hide it. Besides I like you with a gun. I also know that you've been mouthing messages to people about calling 911. If one of them follows through, I'm still not worried. It will take them a minute to decide, and a minute for dispatch to decipher whether it is a real emergency. It will not be a quick response. Are you in the elevator?"

Alex breathed into the phone, "Yes!"

"You covered the receiver at the reception desk downstairs, I heard you. But I'm not worried. Reynaldo is not a heavy thinker. It will take him quite a few minutes to figure out how to handle your information. He knows that the management company does not like squad cars parked in front of their properties. What floor are you on?"

"I am at 12."

"Good, you're almost here. I'll meet you at the door."

He grinned at her when she emerged from the elevator, a gun trained on him. She was breathing hard. The phone was no where to be seen. "Get down on the ground, Jimmy! I will shoot!"

Jimmy's head disappeared into the apartment and the door closed. She cursed.

"You can't come in until you promise to behave yourself. In the meantime, Detective Goren is bleeding onto my new carpet which is a pain, although unavoidable."

"Open the door or I will open it for you!"

"Sorry, it's a security door. Would you like to have a stand off? Your partner can bleed to death here while you gather your forces. We can negotiate into the night. You can go over in your head how you could have prevented his death. Then you can think about what you will tell his mother."

"I'm not putting the gun down!"

"Fine, but if you want this handled now, you will have to understand that his life is in my hands. You are not running the show. Are you listening to my voice? Do you hear panic? Do you hear regret?"

"Open the door. We'll negotiate."

The lock switched, and Alex took a deep breath. She pushed the door open, surveying the space before entering. Jimmy was in the middle of the room kneeling beside Bobby, a gun to Bobby's temple.

He looked so pale lying there, his eyes closed. Blood had pooled under his face. She had never seen him like this before. He was so vulnerable, so lifeless, and her breath caught, her eyes stinging.

"You have a choice. You can reason with me, and we can do this for the next three hours or you can put your gun down, and you and I will leave together. We'll call for an ambulance, and the two of us will go somewhere to talk. What do you say?"

She couldn't tell if he was still breathing. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate. Putting down the gun was not something she was prepared to do, but she was pretty sure he wouldn't last lying there like that. She also knew that people thought that her gun was her only weapon.

"Alex! He's dying. Make a choice!"

She locked eyes with Jimmy. "I put down the gun, and we leave together. Give me some guarantees."

He smiled. "I won't hurt you. I'm not like Ronald. He was a pig. I am a romantic. I just want to spend time with you. I want you to know me for who I really am. I want you to feel my love for you. I promise that coming with me will be the least dangerous option you have."

"We call for an ambulance before we leave this apartment?"

"Of course. It will be much better than you think. In a couple of days, you will understand more about my heart, and why we can be so good together."

Alex slowly put her weapon down on the floor and stood up again. A siren sounded out the window, and Jimmy's head jerked. She didn't have time to grab it again so she rushed him. The small woman, who no one would ever imagine a threat, took her training very seriously. She slammed a fist into his abdomen, and then replaced it with a knee aimed a little lower. Jimmy doubled over in surprise. With both hands, she slammed down on the top of his spinal column. He grabbed her around the legs and carried her onto the sofa. They began to wrestle and his fist found her face twice. The second time, it dazed her. She struggled to clear her head, and the weight on top of her disappeared. She pulled herself up, and saw the door swinging open and Jimmy no where in sight. She lurched for her gun and pointed it at the door. In her blouse, a voice was calling her name over and over. She picked it out of her bra, "Captain, he took off before I could subdue him. Bobby's bad. I need a bus. Now!"

She slumped back onto the floor and crawled over to him. He was so still. Keeping her gun and eyes trained on the door, she felt for his wrist. She found it and wrapped her fingers tightly around it. Her hands were shaking so hard that, for a moment, she could feel nothing, but then she found it, weak but steady. She let out a huge sigh of relief, and let the tears fall unhindered down her face.

…………………………………………………………………………….

"The two of you are the best detectives on my squad, arguably the best team of detectives in the five boroughs, and you pull this nonsense. I don't even know what to say to you."

Deakins paced back and forth in front of her. Eames sat in a seat, her head in her hands. The harsh light of the hospital waiting room beat down on her. Her head hurt tremendously, and her face was too tender to touch.

"I got one detective hanging on by a thread, and then there's you with a face bruised up like a piece of bad fruit. And I can't even tell the chief about your case because you don't have one. I get some story from you about a stalker who was a witness from the Wick case, and how you wanted to handle it alone, but then Goren found out and neither one of you took ten minutes to really think about this guy and do your research. Instead he goes in, no real plan in hand, and agitates a crazy guy. Then you play cowboy and try to take him in his apartment by yourself. Am I forgetting anything?"

She shook her head. "This was my fault."

"This was both of you. He thinks he's invincible, and you have been running around with a chip on your shoulder ever since the Wick case. The two of you were ripe for a major screw-up."

She reached up to feel her aching cheek, and her face jerked at the touch.

Deakins sat down across from her. "Have you been checked? You look horrible."

Before she could answer, she caught sight of the always impeccable Ron Carver coming down the hallway followed by Logan and Barak. Deakins got up to meet them.

"How is Detective Goren?" Carver got straight to the point.

Deakins shook his head. "We don't know anything. They're working on him in trauma."

Carver turned his attention to Alex. Reluctantly she looked up at him. Logan saw her and whistled low. Carver shook his head. "This man is crazy. Absolutely psychotic."

"Yeah, well wait 'til you actually hear about him," Deakins said.

Carver raised an eyebrow. "I have. He called me."

"What!" Alex was on her feet. A wave of discomfort hit her, and she grabbed the arm of the chair for support. Logan stepped over and put a hand on her arm. He gestured for her to sit again.

"He called me forty minutes ago. He was quite irate. Felt that his civil rights had been violated. Quoted an old New York City statute from the 18th century describing women as chattel or property to their men. Says that in addition to marriage, there is a sentence that reads something like…'men who clearly have domain over a woman are covered by this law.' He claims Eames here as his property. Says the statute has never been repealed so he insists that Alex be handed over to him."

Deakins shook his head. "Damn! We really woke up a nutcase here."

"Says his obsession can be claimed as documentation of his dominion over her. Says Goren has failed to meet this criteria as he hasn't properly laid claim to her."

Alex shook her head. "I never knew. He was persistent but always polite. It wasn't 'til he broke into my apartment that I felt fear."

Deakins twirled toward her. "More information I didn't know. This is becoming comedic."

Logan placed his hand on her shoulder. "It happens, Captain. You know that. We let our guard down. We get cocky. I got first hand experience with this."

Deakins shook his head and looked away. Carver returned to his narrative. "I told him that this statute had been repealed, and he said it hadn't, and indeed it hadn't, but it carries no weight because modern law and the constitution supersede antiquated laws.

He then asked for immunity against prosecution for assaulting Detective Goren because his civil rights had been violated. I had no idea what had happened, of course, but I told him that I prosecute any assault on a police officer to its fullest extent. Then he called me a 'black fascist' and hung up."

"He's psychotic and dangerous. Alex and Bobby are both going to need protection," said Barak as she kneeled in front of Alex. She studied her face and brought a finger up to lightly touch her cheek. Alex flinched. "You're going to need an X-ray."

"I'm fine," Alex mumbled.

Barak took her hand. "Come on, Alex. We're not going too far. These guys will bring us updates." Alex looked at Deakins, and he nodded. She got up and reluctantly followed Barak down the hallway.

Deakins looked at the ceiling. "We're going to need guards on Goren, and I haven't a clue what to do with Eames."

"This case is mine. Barak and I are laying claim. Major Case Squad doesn't stand by and let some looney tune do this to our people."

Deakins raised an eyebrow. "He's tricky."

"I got resources. Barak's got a brain like a friggin' library. Plus I know a shrink, Skoda, who would love to get his hands on this case."

Carver nodded. "Skoda's a good man."

"You don't know Eames well yet, but I guarantee that you are not going to be able to keep her away from this. She's as stubborn as a mule when she wants to be."

"It's okay, Captain. She works with us. We watch her. She can stay with Barak. Perp's not going to want to get that close. Besides, I think this mope just surprised them. My guess is that he's no major player otherwise we'd have some kind of paper on him somewhere."

"I got a bad feeling about this, people. I don't mind telling you." Deakins looked at both man warily before walking away.

……………………………………………………………………..

He was in intensive care but the news could have been worse. There was a skull fracture and a concussion, but the swelling had been contained, his vitals were good, and surgery was not indicated. Nurses in ICU were sticklers for rules, but they knew cops, and nobody said a word when the small, blonde woman with the badly bruised face wanted to see him. They told her to stay quiet and they let her hold his hand.

Barak and Logan were gathering a task force, and Eames had no current role in that. So she sat and waited until they came for her. She held his big hand in both of hers. Bobby was a meticulous man. His hands were surely manicured at least once a month while her own looked like those of a nervous teen-ager with a penchant for biting off hang nails. It was only one of the many differences between them. He was big, bold, brilliant. She, on the other hand, had made a career out of being underestimated. She didn't care if they thought she was smart; that was Bobby's domain. She was the one who showed up with the sharp comment the moment they least expected. She lived for the surprise in people's eyes every time she showed how substantial she could be. She could still surprise Bobby, but not in the same way. He knew she had endless depth. It was why she worried so much after the Wick murder. That incident told her that Bobby could no longer be objective about her. The thought of it overwhelmed her, taking her to places she had promised she would never visit.

Her head was pounding and exhaustion was overtaking her so she laid her head down on his hand and rested. It seemed like only minutes before Carolyn Barak was waking her up. Alex protested halfheartedly. She felt like the only meaningful rest was going to happen in this room, her hands covering his, her cheek monitoring the pulse on his wrist.

Carolyn shook her head. "You need something more than what you can get sitting vigil for him. You're coming to my place. I have a bed for you."

"I feel better being here."

"Alex, we have two guards on him. If you stay, we know Ross will come for you. He's frothing at the mouth. I can feel it. Come home with me. We'll get a few hours of real rest. It will make a difference. Tomorrow we gotta wake up and find this guy. Okay?"

Alex couldn't find any life left inside her. She let Barak pull her to her feet. She reluctantly let go of Bobby's hand and followed Barak out the door.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

The sun was rising; the warm colors of morning spread across the skyline. Alex pressed her cheek against the window. The cold pane soothed her battered face. She had only slept a few hours. The events of the last two days played over in her head as she marked the many moments when she should have made different choices.

She felt foolish and ashamed, and the lump in her throat grew every time she remembered Bobby lying on that man's floor. Big, strong Bobby lying there helpless; it was an image she couldn't shake. She had never seen him not be the most powerful person in the room, and she felt that she was the one responsible for that.

An old clock on the wall chimed the hour and she blinked. It was 6 a.m. Her exhaustion should've dictated sleep, but the pain in her gut wouldn't allow it. She heard feet shuffle softly and Carolyn Barak came into the room, hair tousled and barefoot. She wore an old white nightgown that made her look something like a romance heroine.

"Did you sleep at all?" she murmured.

Alex nodded. "A few hours."

"Did you call the hospital?"

"Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago. He's in stable but serious condition."

Carolyn rubbed her eyes, and disappeared into the kitchen. Alex could hear the soothing sounds of a percolator, and Carolyn reappeared in a few minutes with two steaming cups of coffee.

"Punishing yourself doesn't help you, Bobby or us. Just thought I'd let you know."

Alex took a sip of the steaming hot brew. "I've been trying to beat that into myself since about 4 a.m. this morning."

Carolyn nodded. "Sorry it's been so rough for you."

"Yeah, me too."

"Hey! How 'bout I make you some eggs. I have an old frittata recipe from my grandmother that is just sublime."

Alex shook her head. "My stomach's not accepting food this morning."

"Okay, well, your stomach has the next six hours to get on board because lunch is going to be mandatory."

Alex tried to smile, but her swollen face was stiff and sore, and all she could pull off was a pained grimace.

Knocking erupted at the door and Alex jumped. Carolyn was on her feet, digging into her coat on the wall. She pulled out her weapon and advanced on the door. Alex disappeared into the bedroom to find her gun. Carolyn put her eye to the peephole and then relaxed visibly. "What are you doing here at 6:15 in the morning?"

Alex watched with apprehension. Then she heard the muffled bass in his voice and brought the gun down to her side. "I got news. Let me in."

"It's about Bobby!"

Carolyn looked back at her, and then opened the door. Logan filled the doorway. "No, not about Bobby. I got news on the perp." His eyes stopped at Barak and he smiled. "I haven't seen a nightgown like that since Grandma Logan died."

Barak slammed the door in his face. "You can wait out there." Then she trotted to her bedroom.

"Aw, come on." Came the muffled reply. "Eames, take pity on me here."

Alex went to the door and opened it. "Behave yourself," was all she said, but her mottled face and solemn demeanor carried the message as far as it needed to go. Logan nodded and followed her into the apartment. She returned to her spot by the window, and reached for her coffee cup. He sat next to her. She felt his eyes on her and turned to him.

"How you feeling, Eames?"

"Been better," she said softly.

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Only when I think of what an idiot I've been."

He chuckled. "You got nothing on me. I've pulled some classics. I once planned to kill the guy who shot my partner. Almost did it too."

She raised her eyebrows. "You could have lost everything."

He put his arm around her. "You know, Kid, it's amazing that more of us don't end up in the joint. I mean, they set us up in these crazy jobs where all we see is evil, and then our hands are constantly tied when we try and stop it. I'm not complaining. The system is the way it is, and nobody's stopping me from changing careers. It's just very frustrating to do what we do because sometimes we have to be violent to stop violence and sometimes there's no outlet for us."

"I was stupid not violent."

"You misjudged a situation. That's all. Happens all the time. We all do it. Take it easy on yourself."

"You know Logan, you're this weird combination of big brother and local mob boss."

"Believe it or not, I've heard similar from other people." He smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder. It felt good to have him there. There was this weird innocence about the man. He could be very sweet to people especially when he could tell they were struggling.

Alex looked up to see Carolyn standing there, running her fingers through her hair. "So what's the news?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, well, I couldn't sleep last night and so I started some background on Ross. Found something very interesting. Thought you girls might want to go on a little road trip with me."

Barak frowned at him. "You couldn't be more vague right now."

"Found a woman in New Rochelle. Tried to make a kidnapping report on Ross three years ago. Says he held her for almost 2 years. It didn't make sense, but one of the detectives wrote it up anyway. I called her. She's going to meet us halfway."

Alex nodded and went for her coat.

"Are you sure we shouldn't drop you at the hospital?"

"No, I'm coming. I need to feel useful."

Logan looked at Barak and she shrugged. He let out a deep breath and held the door open for his colleagues.

…………………………………………………………

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: So I tired really hard, but I find that there are parts of this that is too similar to the last CI fic. I am sorry. I didn't realize I was doing it until I reread everything yesterday. However, I added some interesting pieces, and I believe that it will read quite differently. This story, whatever its flaws, is really burning hot for me. I can hardly do anything else. I appreciate so much those of you taking the time to review. It means a lot. Thank you.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 4**

The woman looked tired. It was clear that she had once been beautiful, but her face was now worried and pale. Her name was Lisa Polacek. She was born in Serbia, and a slight lilt from Balkans was still in her voice. She was overly soliticious when they greeted her, and her nervousness was palpable when she sat down; fingers tapping on her coffee cup incessantly.

She refused to look at Logan, focusing all of her attention on Barek. The marks on Alex's face seemed to frighten her, and her eyes darted to her to quickly and then away.

"Should I just start talking to you?" She said before they even sat down.

"It's okay, Lisa. Take your time. We want to know all of it."

She nodded and took a sip of coffee. "I met Jimmy 6 years ago. He was really amazing: handsome, funny, rich. I went out on a few dates with him. At first it was great, but something wasn't there. I didn't feel a connection. So I stopped calling, but he didn't. Suddenly he was everywhere. I couldn't shake him. Nothing worked."

She stopped and Barek noticed that her hand trembled on the table. She gave her a sympathetic look and waited.

Lisa nodded. "I went home one night and he was there. I was scared but that's all I remember. I woke up in his apartment. I was tied up. For a while, it was like that. He kept me drugged and tied up for I think a month, maybe."

Her eyes watered. Alex felt something odd and frightening grow in her gut.

"He raped me. I know that now. For a long time, I didn't acknowledge it, but it's what it was. He waited until I was no longer willing to resist him, but it was rape. Make no mistake. After a while, he left me untied for periods of time. He was intense, always there, always watching. He told me I was a part of him, and there was nothing to do but surrender to it. And I did. Eventually, I did."

"You didn't try to run." It came out as a whisper when Alex said it.

"It was weird. His control over me became total. He did everything for me. I began to think he was tender and kind, and after six months I couldn't make the simple of decisions without consulting him. He started to leave the house, and I showed how he could trust me. I never left. I never called anyone. I wanted him to be proud of how I had become part of him."

Tears had begun to gather in her eyes. Logan had trouble looking at her. She seemed so frightened and vulnerable, and he suspected that she was a little scared of him.

"He wasn't proud. The more submissive I became, the more demanding he became. He didn't want me to do anything. I sat in his house all day watching TV. I wasn't allowed to clean because he didn't think I was meticulous. He didn't like my cooking. He would come home, ignore me, rape me, and then ignore me again. I was completely under his spell. I forgot everything but him. I forgot my friends, my family, my work. It didn't bother me that my mother didn't even know I was alive. Every day, I just waited and hoped that he would be proud of me. One day after two years, he came home, packed a bag for me, and put me on the doorstep. Without a word…without one word."

She stopped and took another drink. Then she chuckled. "You're probably a little disgusted. Probably think I must be a very weak person. I would understand if you did."

Carolyn shook her head. "Don't worry about that. We understand the psychological trauma that can happening in a kidnapping."

She wiped at tears. "I wasn't some submissive person. I was a vice president in a consulting firm. I was the one the fired people. I was the hatchet. Can you believe that?"

Alex felt sick. She was glad she hadn't eaten anything because she knew she wouldn't have kept it down.

Carolyn leaned forward. "What happened after he kicked you out?"

"I tried to get back in. It was cold, December, but I didn't seek shelter. I just sat on the doorstep and begged him to let me back in. Finally a neighbor came. When I wouldn't leave with her, she called the police. They knocked on the door, and Jimmy denied he ever knew me. Police ended up taking me to the hospital. I spent the next three months in the psych ward. Blamed myself. They had to keep me on suicide watch. Finally my mother came and got me. I live with her now. I have been going to therapy three times a week for the last four years. It took me two years to realize that I had been kidnapped, raped and emotionally tortured. But it took another year before I finally stopped praying for him to come back to me."

Carolyn sighed deeply. "Have you seen or heard from him in the four years?"

"No, he's never contacted me, but I kept an eye on him. I wanted to know where he was and what he was doing. The neighbor that helped me kept me updated, and I have computer skills, good ones. I tapped into his e-mail. He started another relationship three months after he kicked me out. I tried to call her, but he changed the number. I asked the neighbor to leave notes. But she never called me. Eight months after she moved in, an ambulance showed up. She committed suicide. The neighbor tried to get more information, but nobody had a name. The police never identified her, and it was ruled a suicide. He moved away soon after that. As part of my therapy, I agreed not to try and find him. I haven't heard anything since."

"You filed the complaint against him two years ago." Logan tried to meet her eyes.

She looked away. "I knew it wouldn't go anywhere, but I thought it would be important for me to publicly acknowledge what happened."

"They didn't take it seriously?" Alex asked.

"Two detectives questioned me for four hours. One of them told me it was sad that I couldn't just let the relationship go. He told me I should let the man live his life and get over my vendetta."

Alex shook her head and looked away. The woman couldn't stop glancing at her face, and Alex couldn't help feeling an odd connection to her. "Lisa, Jimmy's after me now. He did this, and he hurt my partner. The information you're telling us might help us find him. I want you to know how brave I think you are."

Lisa smiled at her through tears. "He never hit me. You must be stronger than I was. You're not giving in. I admire that."

Carolyn reached over and took her hand. "You did the best you could and you survived. You have our respect."

"I live with my mother still. I go to therapy. I have no interest in ever being alone with a man again. I have no friends except my therapist. I am working at a Kinko's as a shift manager. You have respect for that?"

Alex pushed her hair out of her eyes. "You survived, Lisa, and you haven't stopped fighting. I have all the respect in the world for that. I promise you I do."

The woman smiled for the first time since she sat down. There was something in the way she did it that led Alex to suspect that it was the first time she had smiled in a very long time.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Bobby opened his eyes and squinted at the light. It was hard to move, and he felt an aching in his head that seemed to start at his neck and continued deep into his cerebrum. Movement caught his eye and he turned his head. Captain Deakins was grinning at him.

"You're looking good, Bobby."

Bobby grunted and looked around the room. There was no one else there. He felt confused and sick.

"You probably don't remember much. Jimmy Ross took a baseball bat to your head. The fact that you're not dead is a testament to your hard head and the fact he was worried he'd have a harder time Eames if he didn't have you as a bargaining chip."

Goren wrinkled his forehead and looked around the room. A look of distress spread over his features. "Where is she?" He mumbled.

"She's okay, Bobby. He roughed her up a little, but she's okay. She saved your life. Ran up to his apartment alone. I was yelling at her on the phone, but she ignored me and went in. Honestly, I can't think of four people on the job that would have had the balls to do that."

Bobby shook his heavy head. "Where is she?"

"Logan and Barek are with her. Ross is on the run."

"I want to see her." Bobby's eyes looked red and feverish.

Deakins nodded. "I'll call her."

………………………………………………………………………

Alex stopped in the bathroom and experimented with covering her bruises with hair. It was impossible so she sighed and let it go.

She was tremendously relieved that he was okay, but she dreaded seeing him; she imagined the look in his eyes when he saw her face. She felt so guilty. He was almost dead because of her. She walked into his room quietly. Deakins stood up. "Hey. He's resting."

She nodded and sat in the seat he vacated.

"Eames, I was really hard on you yesterday. I'm not feeling right about that."

She shook her head. "You were right, Captain."

"Shake it off, Eames. We're moving on."

She nodded and turned her attention to Bobby. "He sleeping?"

"No," came a voice.

Alex smiled. "I knew you were faking, Goren."

He opened his eyes and looked at her. He creased his forehead when he saw her face and his eyes watered, pain radiating in his dark eyes.

She brought a hand up to her face as if to try and hide her marks. "Hey Bobby, it's okay. I'm good. Really. A couple of lucky punches. Nothing more. You're the one who took a bat."

Deakins cleared his throat. "Since you're here, I think I'll get back to the squad."

Eames nodded at him and turned her attention back to Bobby. She felt him searching with his hand. He found hers and squeezed tightly. "You really okay?"

"Yeah. It looks bad but I'm good. Really. It's you I'm worried about."

"Jimmy's going to hurt you. I won't let him."

She smiled, struggling not to acknowledge the pain. "I feel better already."

He shook his head. "Don't play with me."

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

He squeezed again. "I'm worried about you."

She dropped his head. Sounds erupted and she couldn't contain her grief. She sobbed into her hands. He reached for her again, catching her arm. "Please. This is not your fault."

"I'm so sorry, Bobby."

"The only thing that matters is that you're safe. He's going to try again."

"I know. I just met one of his earlier conquests."

He nodded. "He's dangerous."

"I'm going to be okay. Don't worry."

"Not an option, Alex."

She pulled away and stood up. "Bobby, the only thing that matters right now is getting you healthy again. I'm going to be fine. I promise. I'm staying with Carolyn."

"Be careful. It'll just be a couple days before I'm up, but then I'm on it."

She chuckled. "Take your time, Bobby. You earned it."

"Where's Logan and Barek?"

"They're waiting outside."

"Bring him in."

She rolled her eyes. "Geez, Bobby. He can't do anything more than he already has."

"Bring both of them in."

Alex sat there for a moment before getting up. Then she went to the door and signaled. Logan and Barek appeared in the doorway. "Bobby wants to talk to you."

Logan smiled wide. "Hey! The genius is getting better. Barek, your competition is back."

Barek took Goren's hand and gave him a warm smile. "Welcome back."

Goren didn't smile back. "I'm worried about Jimmy. He's unstable. He's dangerous."

Logan nodded. "We're going to take good care of her."

Goren screwed up his face. "We're underestimating him still. He's been hurt by the woman he's been trying to possess. He's going to do something sudden and drastic. You have to be ready for that."

"That could include coming here to finish the job on you." Carolyn said, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

He shook his head. "I'm out of the way. His attention is on her. He doesn't have time to split his focus right now."

"Bobby, we're not letting her out of our sight. That's a promise."

"It's not enough."

Eames shook her head and chuckled. "You can barely lift her head, and you still think you can run the show. You're going to have to let it go."

"Alex, please."

"No, Bobby. You can't help me right now. You have to stay here and let your body heal. I have to go and take care of this the best way I know how."

Bobby looked away. Alex grabbed his hand. "I'm going to be okay, Bobby."

She let go of his hand and backed away. She gestured at Logan and Barek, and they followed her out of the room.

They were almost to the door when her cell rang. She froze. Logan signaled for her to wait. He rang Trace, and once they were connected, he put his hand down and she picked up her cell. "Eames"

"I'm not giving up. This was meant to be. The sooner you understand that, the better the people in your life will fare."

Alex licked her lips. "You hurt anyone else I know, and I will kill you."

He laughed heartily. "Alex, you've convinced yourself you won't feel anything, but you won't know the truth of your feelings that until we've had our chance to be together. I've changed women before."

"Not this time. I would rather die."

Logan frowned at her, but she waved him away.

"I only have a few more seconds before a trace can take hold so listen carefully. You have twelve hours to make the right decision before I start to hurt the people you love. Tomorrow, you will find instructions. I'll tell you where to go. I promise you it will be much more than you ever imagined."

She jumped at the dial tone. Logan barked at Trace and waited. Then he closed his eyes and cursed. He hung up and had to restrain himself from throwing the phone at the wall.

He turned to her. "I heard everything through Trace. You will disregard everything you heard. Do you understand? We are not going to let him hurt anyone."

Barek threw him a sharp look. "Should we go back in and tell Bobby?"

"No, leave him out of it. He can't do anything right now, and it will just drive him crazy." Alex turned away from both of them. She carried a burden now that they could never understand.

…………………………………………………………………………

Sleep came a lot easier than she imagined it would. In fact, she found it hard to wake. Groggily, she dragged herself onto her elbows and searched Carolyn's spare room for a clock. She found a digital display that read 8:00. She blinked to focus her eyes and the display didn't change. A feeling of panic grew in her; they should have all been up hours ago. She scrambled out of bedroom and trotted down the hallway. She swung around the doorway into the living room and found Logan snoring loudly, propped up awkwardly on the couch, his long legs resting on a chair. Relief flooded her gut. She turned to check on Carolyn when something on the kitchen table caught her eye.

She swallowed hard when she saw the card and the single flower. She tried to reconcile it with items that had been there last night, but she couldn't because it hadn't been there.

"Logan," she said breathlessly as she approached the table. "Logan!"

His eyes flew open and he swung his feet unto the ground, groping for his gun.

"Tell me that this card and flower were on the table when you fell asleep last night."

Blinking wildly, he pulled himself to his feet and lurched toward the table. He saw the items and looked at her. "Is this a joke?"

She shook her head. Reaching carefully, she picked up the card and opened it. Her eyes scanned the words and she let out a gasp, dropping the card. "Carolyn!"

He didn't wait for an explanation. He turned and chased her into the bedroom. Carolyn's room was still dark and she hit the light. A truly wicked sight greeted them both. Carolyn was bound, hands in front and feet, duct tape wrapped around her mouth. Her waist was secured to the headboard. She looked at them with terrified eyes. Alex looked down at the bed and screamed. Three large black snakes were coiled near her feet. Logan disappeared and returned with a broom. He edged himself around the wall until he was standing next to her against the headboard. Carolyn squeezed her eyes shut. He aimed carefully and then drove bristles into their midst. Angry black heads erupted at the intrusion and bit at the broom. Logan madly swept them off the bed and onto the floor. He continued to poke at them with the broom as they slithered around him. Then Alex was there with her gun, shooting at them. A bullet whizzed near Logan's foot and he yelled at her to cease. It was enough. The reptiles lay limp on the ground. Alex appeared again with a kitchen knife and sawed at the rope tying her to the headboard. Once the frayed rope broke, Logan picked her up and carried her into the living room. Alex closed the door tightly, the fear of snakes still palpable in her gut. She grabbed for her phone and hit Deakins' number. When she got him, she said no more than a few shaky words and hung up. She knew he was going to bring enough back-up to overrun the neighborhood.

Logan was sitting next to her on the couch, searching her limbs for bites. Alex brought the kitchen knife and gently sawed at her restraints. The duct tape wasn't easy. She had to grab an edge and pull hard. She caught Carolyn's eyes and waited until she nodded. Then she pulled. Carolyn gave a short squeal as the tape dragged across her face, then started to breathe hard.

Logan looked up. "Did you get bit?"

She shook her head no, her face growing red as she fought the tears welling up in her eyes.

Logan stood up, anger etched in his features, and looked at Eames. "How did he do this?"

Wiping at her eyes, Carolyn looked up. "He put something in the vent. We were drugged. I didn't sense him until he was tying me up."

Alex bit her lower lip trying to control her trembling chin. "We didn't hear anything."

"What did he say to you?" Logan's anger caused him to bark the question.

She shook her head, careful not to catch Alex's eyes.

Alex looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to compose herself. "You have to tell Carolyn. We have to know."

Carolyn rubbed at her eyes again. "He said that this was your last warning. Twelve hours are up. He said that he heard Bobby was getting better, and that would be his next visit."

As if on cue, Alex's cell rang. She picked it up. "Jimmy?"

"Has he been calling you?"

Relief flooded through her at the sound of Bobby's voice. "Bobby, I can't talk now."

"What's going on? I called half an hour ago. Nobody answered."

"I can't talk. You sound good though. We'll talk later."

His voice rose. "Alex! What's going on? Tell me!"

Alex took the phone away from her ear, shaking her head, and handed it to Logan. Then she disappeared into the spare bedroom. The sound of footsteps sounded in the hallway, and then there were shouts of "Police! Open up!"

"Hold on, Bobby," Logan said into the receiver as he strode over to open the door. Deakins and company pushed past him into the apartment. Logan walked out into the hall as more officers, plainclothes, uniforms, paramedics, and CSU, filed past him. "Bobby, this is not a good time. Everyone's okay. But he was here. We're drugged and…I just can't get into the rest of it right now. We'll be there as soon as possible."

"Logan!"

"Sorry, Bobby, we'll talk soon."

Logan swallowed hard, and then waded his way back into the small apartment. He was relieved to see paramedics checking her over. He saw Deakins giving him an icy glare, and he went over to fill the captain in on their latest terror.

………………………………………………………………………..

It was achingly easy really. Alex just moved with all of her fellow city employees out the door of the apartment and down the staircase. In the lobby she found a back exit and trotted away from all of them down the street.

……………………………………………………………..

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

12

Disclaimer: These characters are not my peeps.

A/N: There are more unexpected things coming up. This has been fun and exciting to write. I'm so happy about those of you reading along with me. A special thanks goes out to those of you taking time to tell me what's working and what needs work. I'm still about two chapters ahead of this, and am not sure where and how this is ending. I hope to keep you interested.

Oh, and I love music but don't feel it with the passion of most people. However, I couldn't get Bedshaped by Keane out of my head as I wrote this. I'm not even sure what the lyrics mean, but I see Bobby standing on the seashore and I hear this song.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 5**

Bobby Goren's body was not ready to be launched out of bed. He took two steps before vertigo took over and he slumped to the floor.

"Jesus, Bobby. How the hell is this going to help?" Logan thundered as he towered over him.

"You lost her." The anger glinted in Bobby's eyes.

Deakins stood on one side and signaled for Logan to move to the other. They each grabbed one of Bobby's arms and hoisted him back into the bed. Deakins hit the buzzer for the nurse while Bobby tried to regain his balance enough to sit up.

"She took off. What happened to Carolyn freaked her out. I think she's afraid that something else would happen to one of us. Ross specifically threatened you again when he was talking to my partner."

Bobby glared at the nurse who came rushing in. "Call my doctor. I need to get out of here." She raised an eyebrow as if waiting for him to reveal the joke, but thought better of it when she saw his agitation. She immediately turned and left.

Logan rolled his eyes. "Right. "Cause you think I'm going to carry you around town. Think again, Goren."

Deakins put up a hand. "All right, you two, that's enough. Neither one of you are acting like you're worth a plug nickel right now. Let's calm down and think about this."

Bobby closed his eyes and leaned back. "When he opened them, he looked at Logan. "How's Carolyn?"

Logan blew air out. "She's spooked. Ross put three water moccasins in her bed. She sat there for four hours praying that she wouldn't get bit. Couldn't struggle. Couldn't move. Afraid to startle them. Her muscles spasmed. They gave her a sedative so that her muscles can uncramp. She's going to be okay, but she's going to need a little time to settle herself."

"I can't figure why she'd just take off like that."

Deakins shook his head. "Of course you can, Bobby. She's been a mess since you got hurt. She feels responsible. Ross is out of control and he's smart. He can hurt whoever he wants if he puts his mind to it. She's worried about her family and she's worried about us, especially you. Call it what you want, but Alex Eames would do anything for you. That's why I want you burning up your cell phone. See if she'll talk to you. If she'll talk to anybody, my guess is it'll be you."

Logan dug it out of Bobby's coat pocket and saw the battery was low. He left for a few minutes and returned with a borrowed charger. Then he handed the phone to Bobby.

Bobby dialed and waited but there was no answer. He tried again but no response. Finally he put the phone down on the bed and grabbed his head with both hands.

"You okay, Bobby?" Deakins approached the bed.

Bobby waved him away. "I need to think and I need my body to start cooperating. Give me a few minutes."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Good. Put the big brain of yours to work. I'm standing by. I'm gonna be your legs for right now. Just point and I'm on it."

Bobby nodded and closed his eyes, letting his head settle into his pillow. They started to leave when his eyes popped open. "Bring me everything on this case. We're going to run the investigation from here."

Deakins looked at Logan who shrugged. Then he nodded at Bobby. They were going to run a major case from a hospital bed.

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Let's skip the part where you tell me how dumb this is. I can't think of what else to do."

She called back about 30 minutes after he started trying her. She sounded agitated and emotional, and Bobby knew to take it slow. He nodded at Deakins who notified Trace.

"I'm really glad to hear your voice. You're scared. I am too. I'm glad we're talking."

She snorted. "You're talking to me in that voice. You know, the one you use when you're dealing with someone unstable."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm trying to be careful here. I'm feeling desperate. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Did you hear what he did to Carolyn?"

"She's going to be okay, Alex. She's going to be just fine."

"Tell me what you would do in this situation. What if this was about you?"

"I'd probably do what you're doing, and you'd probably do what I'm doing. I would think seriously about killing him. Is that what you're thinking?"

There was silence on the other end. Then she spoke, "If I could find him, I'd do it. Really. I wouldn't play any games either. I would tell Carver exactly what happened, and take whatever deal he was offering."

"How long have we known each other?"

"I think it was January. I remember because you were wearing that ridiculous cap with flaps. Was it 2000 or 2001?"

"I can't remember and I don't like it when my head gets cold. You know that. Do you remember how annoying you found me?"

"You were a little weird."

"And we worked that first case together, and you were toe to toe with me the entire time. I was really impressed. I could tell my…behaviors were getting to you and I was trying everything in the world to act normal."

"I'm sorry that I wasn't more patient with you in the beginning."

"You were perfect. I've never regretted a moment with you."

There was another silence on the other end. "It feels like I'm saying good-bye and I wish I wasn't. I wish I knew what to do."

"This is what happens when you've worked with someone as long as we have. You get stuck, you look for your partner. You know that the whole is better than the sum of its parts. That's what's missing here. I should be there with you."

"At what cost, Bobby? Tell me. I wait for you to get better and he hurts someone else. Maybe he's already got a plan for you. Has the food been checked? Have you vetted the hospital staff? I find him and I can make it stop now. I can't live with the consequences of what he's doing to the people around me."

"And I can't live with the consequences of the choice you're making right now. You're in a panic, Alex. You can't see the other possibilities. Yesterday, we had a team of three people working on this. Today, we have thirty. Nobody does what he did to Barek and gets away with it in this department. Outside the door to this room is a regular police convention. Jimmy Ross is big time now. Your family's safe. I talked to your big brother, Tommy, and he told me to tell you that you get your ass back here now. He said that the Eames family doesn't run from anybody."

"Bobby, you've been running a trace, right? That's why we're reminiscing."

He didn't say anything.

"Tell me, Bobby."

"We're just trying to keep you safe."

"Could Jimmy be tracing the trace?"

"What do you see?"

"I thought I saw movement in the shadows. Bobby, I'm in the warehouse district, pier 34. I was going to call Jimmy from here, but I didn't. I called you. I knew it would help to talk to you."

Bobby jerked his head at Deakins and repeated the address. "Alex, squads are on their way. Are you armed?"

She didn't answer. There was feedback on the line and then the sound grew muffled. He called her name again, and then he heard something.

"Jimmy! I can hear you. Come out! Now! Or I'll shoot."

Goren looked at Deakins. "I think he's there."

Gunshots exploded over the phone and Bobby jumped. Even Deakins could hear. He grabbed his phone and started yelling into it.

Bobby yelled her name into the phone over and over, and then the connection broke and there was nothing but dial tone. Bobby climbed out of bed more carefully this time, reaching for the chair and working his way toward the closet. Deakins started to protest but he could see the futility of it.

Bobby stood up carefully and the captain held out his arm for support. "Thanks," Bobby said simply. His eyes were a millions miles away or maybe just a few miles over to the warehouse district. It didn't matter. He was in a private hell and the captain knew it. He led his best detective out of the hospital, never stopping to explain to the nurses who trotted after them.

…………………………………………………………………….

Logan was already there when they arrived. Crime scene was there, sirens, cars, and police personnel were everywhere. Logan was in the midst of it, waving his arms at anyone near him, barking orders. He spied Goren and Deakins, and peeled away from the crime scene people. He advanced on them, a hard look on his face.

"All bets are off. My new plan is to kill this mope and bury him in my front yard. I don't give a good God damn what his mommy didn't do for him when he was a boy."

Goren looked jittery and pale, one hand massaging his temples. "What do we know?"

"They found her phone and her jacket and her gun. They're looking for shell casings. No witnesses. We got tire tracks. He drove through a puddle, and the boys are shooting them right now before they fade."

Deakins moved off to look at the scene. Logan went over to Goren. "Lean on me, for Christ's sake. You'll fall over and take up valuable resources."

Goren didn't respond but put an arm on the other man's shoulder, and Logan could feel the weight shift in his body.

"We got to find him, Bobby. That's where we focus ourselves. He's done playing 'Johnny on the Spot.' Now he's got what he wants and he has to concentrate all his energy on her. I got people looking through his records. He has to have a place, somewhere secret. How long do you think he would risk driving with her?"

"I don't know. I'm not ready for this. Give me a minute."

"We're putting together a team. I've been calling people. Go back to 1PP. Sit down. Wait for everybody. You can't do anything here. She's gone, Bobby."

…………………………………………………………………………….

Elizabeth Rodgers didn't make it into the squad room much. Life down in Forensics was busy enough, but Logan put out a call to all sorts of folks, and while she wasn't sure that she could actually bring anything to the table, she was damn sure going to try.

She spotted Emil Skoda and nodded at him. He gave her one of his irresistible grins and she headed in his direction. She didn't see him much outside of waiting to testify at trial, but she had always liked his calm demeanor and no nonsense approach to work.

"Hey Liz." He leaned over and bussed her on the cheek. She tried not to blush. He saw her expression. "Aw hell, I forget I gotta act like an automaton in these squad rooms. Sorry. You got the story on this? I don't know this group. Logan made it sound like he was going to come get me himself if I didn't make an appearance."

She smiled. "It's nice to have Logan back. When he points his nose at something, there's no turning back."

"Fill me in a little." He gestured at the detectives filling into the squad.

"Her name is Eames, Alex Eames. You probably have seen her around. She's hard to miss. Tiny as a minute. Blonde. You'll confuse her as a secretary right up to the moment she has you face down on a table, cuffing you. She's honest, hardworking and smart."

"I don't know. I can't place her, but she sounds intriguing."

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one that thinks that. She's got a stalker. Real bad egg. He almost killed her partner, and if what I heard is true, he almost killed another detective just this morning, and the way he did it just leaves me chilled. I keep hearing psychotic when people talk about him. Apparently he called Ron Carver and told him he legally owned her, and just needed the good counselor to hand her over."

Skoda shook his head and let out a low whistle.

"He snatched her up a couple of hours ago."

"Damn. That's tough."

She pulled on his sleeve and pointed. "Over there, the big guy who looks like he's ready to pass out. That's her partner, Bobby Goren."

Bobby was leaning against a column, one hand rubbing his temples. He appeared to be talking to himself. Skoda raised an eyebrow. "He looks like hell."

"Yeah. He got hit in the head with a bat three days ago. He is not at his best right now. Shouldn't even be out of bed."

"His agitation: there's something about him."

She snorted. "He's brilliant and quirky and the family has a history of schizophrenia. He drives a lot of people nuts around here. He's very edgy, sensitive: he seems at war with himself most of the time."

"Interesting."

"He and Eames are tight, intensely so. They're very tuned into one another. They usually act like they are the only two people in the room. Doesn't seem…romantic…although I don't know…he's very protective of her and she of him. This must be killing him."

"Introduce me."

Rodgers took him by the arm and led him over. "Bobby, I want to introduce you to an old friend. This is Dr. Emil Skoda."

Bobby's head jerked up and he looked at them with dull eyes. His razor sharp memory kicked in and he put a hand out. "I've heard of you. Psychiatrist. I've read your work. Your latest article on psychopathology was particularly intriguing. I definitely spent some time thinking about your conclusions and I think I agree with most of them."

"Really? That's refreshing. Most people have branded me a heretic since that came out."

Bobby looked at him again, his eyes gauzy and tired. "I'm sorry. I wish I had time to talk. There's a situation."

"That's why I'm here. Logan called." Skoda looked around the room. "Looks like he called half the civil servants in Manhattan."

"We pretty much already have a profile. I don't know what more—"

Skoda put a hand up. "It's always good to have an extra pair of ears and eyes. Rodgers says your partner's a pretty special person. I want to help."

Bobby nodded. "Good. We need all we can get."

"You should be in bed."

Bobby's face screwed up in frustration. "Doctor, I need help finding her and that's all."

"Okay. Just do everyone a favor and find a chair. I'll send someone out to get you a sports drink. It'll help you to stay hydrated. You look like you could use the calories."

"Thanks." He let Rodgers lead him over to a chair.

Skoda gestured with his head. "Is this the file? I'd like to get a look."

Bobby pushed it toward him. Rodgers noted that he was pale enough to resemble one of her cadavers, and she took off in search of sports drink and anything else she thought he could digest.

……………………………………………………………………………

Deakins and Logan led the briefing. There were so many cops they had to use the open squad room. Logan noted that some of the cops were off duty, standing at the back, arms folded. Before there was a contingent he didn't recognize until Deakins pointed out Eames' brothers. Deakins went over to greet them. Then he brought them over to Bobby who looked up from the file he was sharing with Skoda, and tried to stand. Several hands pulled him back into his chair, and the brothers were inordinately solicitous. It was clear they had never met before. Logan wasn't sure what Eames told them at Sunday dinner, but they patted him on the back, and showed him nothing but kindness.

Ron Carver showed up and made a short statement about the support the DA's office would offer with warrants and such. He then issued a stern warning about proper police procedure, reminding them all that there was currently no evidence that Ross actually had Eames.

Logan set up teams of people to canvass all of Ross's known hangouts, and other teams were to focus on all of his holdings and possible aliases. He set up a team to coordinate with the state police regarding Ross's cars. With some confidence, he declared that with these resources and the quick response time, Eames should be back at her desk within a couple of days.

Goren and Skoda sat over the files, heads together, thick as thieves. Skoda got up near the end of the briefing and talked. "He's psychotic, possibly delusional. He thinks he has every right to be doing what he's doing. He will not listen to reason. Do not approach him. His irrationality is balanced with a keen intellect. He has used a stun gun in the past, homemade. You wouldn't even know it if you saw it. He probably has accomplices, people who do things for him. Do not give out any information to people you talk to; we don't know who's working with him. He has a sense of decorum, an elaborate sense of right and wrong. He will come off as rational, approachable, but he is deeply disturbed. Detective Eames should be okay for the time being. There is no evidence that he has ever murdered. He wants to possess her. He probably has a place, somewhere hidden. He has her drugged, but he's not ready to hurt her. He knows to be patient, he wants to win her over. All information about Ross, his behaviors, likes, patterns, whatever; goes to Detective Goren. Any questions?"

Hands flew up around the room.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

It was a week before folks started drifting back to their regular assignments. The task force couldn't stay a task force without leads coming in. Nothing on Jimmy Ross panned out. It was as if he and Alex Eames had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Logan wasn't giving up. He hadn't been gifted with that particular gene. He was working hard at it, still trying to run down every last piece of information personally. Barek was back, pale and very quiet. She went everywhere with him. People had long stopped asking her how she was. What happened to her felt so humiliating almost as if it had been a rape. She became intensely uncomfortable whenever anyone mentioned anything in relation to the night he stole her safety from her. Logan ran defense for her, rarely letting anyone get too close for almost any reason. Carolyn Barek should have been annoyed with his behavior, but she wasn't. He was one of the few people she would talk to in the squad room.

Deakins was presiding over a sinking ship. His star detectives were in pieces. He rerouted every case he could. Upstairs they were starting to question him about his detectives, but for once, he didn't play politics. He resisted all efforts at intrusion, even ignoring phone calls from the chief.

Carver did the best he could to provide support. He had been in Branch's office several times already hoping to get Arthur to advocate on their behalf. Branch was a pragmatist. He knew the chances of finding Eames were lessening exponentially with each passing hour and didn't see any reason to go to bat on a fool's errand. He felt the sooner they accepted the situation, the better. Carver still showed up in the squad room at least once a day bugging detectives for the latest updates.

Goren was a walking ghost. He never seemed to be gone from the squad room for more than a few hours. Folks speculated that he was sleeping somewhere in the building, but no one had a clue as to where. His bruises were fading as was all of the natural color of his skin. His beard had become even starker in contrast.

Elizabeth Rodgers had never fancied herself much of a caretaker. Thirty years in Forensics had left her tough as nails, and more likely to be drinking beer with a bunch of male colleagues than packing lunches, but there she was every day, dropping by with a lunch pail filled with everything her mother had told her was healthy; Zone diet be damned. After seeing all the detectives looking peaked and worn, she switched the lunch pail to a grocery bag. God help the officer who made a joke about her mothering them. It was all she knew to do.

Skoda became a daily presence as well. Everyone knew that there wasn't anything new to profile, but he showed up anyway, spending as much time with Goren as the big detective would allow. He became the sounding board for any behavioral theories on Ross that Goren had developed.

The cap of every afternoon was Goren's call to his mother. He always took it in a closed office, but these days he added a phone call to Eames' mother as well. He might end up being in there for more than an hour assuring his mother that he would be okay, and then assuring hers that he wouldn't stop until her daughter was found.

Major Case squad, once the most dynamic squad room in 1PP, had become a silent place, everyone treading carefully, waiting for the final act to play itself out.

……………………………………………………………………………………….

It happened four weeks after she disappeared. A bunch of kids playing in a cove on the northern shore found it. Her jacket was snagged on some rocks at the mouth of a river heading out to sea. They had pulled it in with a stick and found her ID inside the breast pocket.

Divers, boats, and helicopters followed. Logan ran around on the shore barking orders like he'd spent a lifetime in this very spot. Goren stood on the shore and stared out to sea. At one point, Barek joined him. Without a word, she found his hand and held it. She didn't look at him, didn't say a word; just stared out at the ocean alongside him, wind blowing her black curls about her face. The corners of his mouth twitched for a moment, and she could sense that he was beginning to lose control so she squeezed his hand even more tightly to remind him of himself.

They left after three days; the enormity and desolation of endless water too much for anyone to take for very long. The only fruits of their labor the jacket teen-agers had fished out of the bay four days earlier.

The next day, Deakins silently handed Logan a case, and walked away. Logan stifled the urge to throw it on the floor and storm after him. Barek looked at him, took it from him, and then sat at her desk to familiarize herself with the details.

Deakins walked up to Goren. "You're not done. I get that. I don't want to be, but I can keep this squad on hold for only so long. I'm not assigning anything to you until you go home for a few days. Sleep, shave the rug off your face, eat a meal. I can't change what happened, but I got nothing on my desk but today. Come back when you're ready for that."

"She's not dead."

"I pray to God every night that you're right."

Bobby looked down at the floor for a moment, then he nodded, grabbed his overcoat, and walked out the door.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

A/N: Damn, this is fun. I mean it. I am only a chapter ahead now, and the pace may slow so I hope you will hang in there. All of the angst that I love so much is well represented here. Thanks for the support. Each little bit I get makes a difference.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 6**

She answered the door with her gun in hand, again wearing Grandma Logan's nightie. He smiled at her and presented her with a pizza box.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Logan, you gotta be kidding me."

"Nope."

"Okay, I'll bite. What's your line? I'm dying to hear this."

"No line." He brushed past her into the apartment and went straight for the kitchen table. He put down the pizza and started rifling kitchen cupboards for plates and silverware. "I'm hungry. You're not eating these days. You're having nightmares. I'm having nightmares. I need someone to talk to. I talk to a guy, he's going to tell me to get drunk and get over it. I have tried that three nights running. It's not working and the hangover's getting harder to hide."

He found some napkins and gestured at the table. "I swear to God, Carolyn. That's all that's on my mind right now. If it'll make you feel any better, you weren't even my first choice. I went to Goren's place, but he won't open the damn door."

She had long since stopped listening to him and opened the box. It was thin and greasy; her favorite although she wasn't going to tell him that. For a few minutes, she didn't say anything, sneaking peeks at him while he mowed through ¾ of the pie. "I didn't know you were having nightmares too."

He wiped his mouth and nodded. "I'm a man's man. I'm not supposed to admit that stuff, but I'm getting too old for this strong silent crap."

She waited another couple of minutes. "Goren wouldn't open his door. You're sure he was there?"

"Yeah, I think so. He stole the file, you know. Deakins was dancing around his office when I left this evening. I heard him leaving a colorful message on Bobby's machine. He's going to need a SWAT team to get that file back."

"I wonder how long he had her, I wonder about what happened." She studied the grease stains on her napkin. "I think about Lisa Polacek, and the time line she described. I wonder about it and it makes me ill…it's hard for a man to understand, I think. I can't explain the complexity of what I felt when we found her jacket. On the one hand, I grieve that she might be gone and on the other, I feel relief that she's no longer with him."

Mike thought for a few minutes. "You're right. I don't have a clue what to say or think about any of that. All I got is the here and now, and right now I don't have any room for the idea she's dead."

Carolyn sighed and got up to clear off the table.

He watched her for a moment. "Tell me about something I can do something about. Tell me about you."

She rinsed dishes in the sink, wiped her hand on a towel and turned to him. "I don't know what to do. Most days I wake up sure that I will pack up my things and leave this apartment. Then I get to work, reason with myself, and decide that he won't push me out of my home. Sometimes I wake in the night and I see the snakes; they're hissing at me or slithering onto my chest. So I sleep with the lights on. I hear a noise or something falls off my counter and I start crying uncontrollably. I take my gun everywhere, to the bathroom even. Every day I wonder if my nerve is gone. I wonder if I'll be Lisa Polacek. I have thought about moving in with my mother. If it gets so bad I have to leave Major Case, then what's next? Will I be waiting tables at some bistro in the village hoping to one day reclaim my life?"

Her confession exhausted both of them, and for a while they sat in silence.

"This being partners with a girl thing is complicated," Mike said finally.

She looked up, her forehead creased. "You're a big help, Logan."

Naw, listen. If you were Lenny Briscoe, my old partner, I would just say what's on my mind. But I feel like with a female, I gotta censor myself. I'm worried that I'm going to say the wrong thing, make you feel bad."

She shook her head, chuckling. "Pretzel Logic is the only phrase that comes to mind as a response to all that."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You really want to hear it?"

"'Cause you really think that I can be hurt further after all this? Lay it on me, Logan; metaphorically, of course."

"Okay. You shouldn't move away from this place. You shouldn't do anything that satisfies his purpose in terrorizing you. Be fierce like Lisa Polacek." Her eyesbrows rose. He nodded. "Yeah, I know what I said. That girl has my respect. It takes a lot of balls to shape a new life discarding all of your old dreams; finding a way to make peace with what you have. I know a little something about that. I took the Staten Island ferry every frickin' day for ten years thinking about it. Polacek didn't give up because the brass ring got smaller. She fights every day for what she can make of her life. Same goes for you. You're afraid and angry about what happened. I would be too. It's just something you're going to have deal with. I know, I'm a man, I don't understand, but those are the breaks, Cookie. You need to keep it from interfering with who you are 'cause you're a damn good detective and I've been around the best."

"It's not easy, Mike."

He shrugged. "This is the part where I get screwed up 'cause you're absolutely right, I don't understand one damn thing about it."

She grinned. "You're something of a revelation, you know."

"That's right, Cookie. I got layers, lots of them."

"Yeah, don't get comfortable calling me cutsie endearments either. If I wasn't so tired, I'd probably tune you up for that."

He laughed. "Nice to see your spirit coming back. I gotta go. Gotta get home and toss and turn for a few hours."

"Stay. I have a spare bedroom. There's a big bed in there. I might get some sleep knowing I'm not alone. You might too."

He gave her a look.

She fumbled over her words. "That's all I'm offering: just a spare bedroom."

He snorted. "Angelina Jolie could be doing a strip tease in your living room about now, and I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes open."

"Good. Let me get you some extra pillows."

"I snore, you know," he said following her down the hallway.

"Of course, you do. You're a man's man. I'm still shocked when I see you use utensils."

"Hey Cookie, these pillows have ruffles and flowers. Who you think you're dealing with here?"

…………………………………………….

Logan pounded on the door again. Skoda winced a little at his force. He turned and exchanged looks with Barek while Logan bellowed into the door. "I know you're in there, Goren, and we're not going away."

There was silence. Logan turned to Skoda. "Come on, Doc. They pay you to say the right words. Say something."

Skoda shrugged. "He doesn't want to talk. What do you want from me?"

Logan scowled at him and returned to the door. "Come on, Goren. Hell, we got information for you."

A few moments later the door opened on the chain. A feverish brown eye peeked out. "What do you know?"

"You're turning into a psycho, that's what I know," Logan blurted. The door slammed in his face. He turned, arms raised in disbelief.

Skoda rolled his eyes and Barek pushed Logan out of the way. She pressed her ear to the door for a moment and then spoke, "Bobby, you're not the only one who cares about this. We care about her too, and we're not giving up on this."

She waited a couple of beats and then stood back. The door opened slowly. She pushed it in and a stale smell greeted her. She turned to glare at Logan. "Can you behave yourself? 'Cause otherwise you're waiting in the hall." Logan smirked and maneuvered past her. Skoda shook his head and followed.

Bobby's apartment was dark for mid day. They followed Logan into the living room and found Eames' file spread everywhere. Photos and paper were taped onto every flat surface in the room. Takeout was crowding a corner table. Bobby sat in the middle of it glaring at them defiantly. His beard was thick and the shadows under his eyes almost as dark. He held his hands together as is trying to control the jitters that followed in him during stress. Barek walked past him and opened a shade. Sunlight flooded the room.

"The photos will fade," he growled.

She ignored him and went around liberating all the window shades.

His eyes were rheumy and vague. Skoda stepped forward. "Are you sleeping?"

"Only when she does."

"Is there anything I can—"

"No! If you're here to help her, good. I don't need nor do I want any other kind of help."

Logan piped in. "Good 'cause I wouldn't even know where to start although if you get any more ripe smelling, I might be persuaded to turn a hose on you."

Bobby looked away. It was clearly a trial for people to see him this way. Bobby was usually the most meticulous of men: clean, expensively dressed.

Barek stepped in. "Tell us what you've been working on here."

Bobby blinked and shook his head as if struggling to focus himself. "The key is to find out where he's got her. He has a property. He has the money for that. He needs a hiding place."

"We know it's not in his name," Barek added.

Goren gestured at a laptop on the couch. "I've been trying other names: people he knew, the women he was with, but that's been a dead end as well."

"You tried Lisa Polacek, right?"

"Yeah, I got nothing."

"She's Serbian, you know."

Bobby sat up straight. "What are you thinking?"

"She's an immigrant. I doubt she was born Lisa Polacek. I don't know any Serbs named Lisa and Polacek doesn't sound right either."

Goren got up and strode to the computer. "Where do we start?"

"Let's try any females with the initials L.P. who purchased property in New York state in the last six years."

"That's got to be thousands of people," Logan said, shaking his head.

"Then we break them down to names that sound Eastern European."

Goren nodded. "Yeah."

"I don't think Polacek had anything to do with this. I got a good feeling off her." Logan planted himself in a chair. "Besides, why don't we just ask her?"

"Sounds like a good job for you, Mike." Barek fixed him with a pointed look.

Logan pulled himself up again and grabbed his coat. "A two hour drive on my day off; just how I wanted to spend my day."

Barek sat on the couch and gently pulled the laptop away from Bobby. "Let me work on this. You look too blurry to make heads or tails out of a bunch of fine print. Go take a shower. Put some fresh clothes on. You need it." Without waiting for a reply, she took the laptop over to the corner and shoved the take out of the way. It took her a couple of minutes to realize that not even this was going to be good enough. She found a garbage can, and began dropping wrappers, boxes, and bags inside. It took ten minutes of this plus pulling two windows open before she could really settle down to the task at hand.

Skoda sat there, not saying a word. Bobby turned his gaze to him. "Are you scheming up a way to get me admitted to the psych unit?"

Skoda shook his head and looked away. "I was trying to imagine what it would feel like to be this connected to another human being. She's a part of you and I don't mean that in any sort of unhealthy sense of the word."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "Don't think you can understand because I don't think it can be understood."

"I wouldn't try and I got a wife and an ex who'll tell you I wouldn't know the first thing about a deep emotional connection with a woman."

Goren snorted. "Detachment: the secret weapon of psychiatry."

"Detachment is overrated."

He looked up shyly. "You think it was a sexual relationship. Most people do, but it wasn't that. It never was."

"I wouldn't make that assumption."

Bobby squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. Then he let his eyes pop open as if struggling to rejoin the living. "I should shower. I should change clothes."

"Bobby, I don't know you well, but I gotta tell you something. You're not crazy, not even close, and I don't think you're going to be. You're not your mother."

"Like you said, Emil, you don't know me very well."

Skoda sighed and got up. "I think I'll go help Barek with her search.

"Are you consulting, Emil? Are they paying you?"

Skoda turned to him. "No, Deakins offered, but no, they're not paying me."

Bobby closed his eyes again. "I'm sorry. I'm not a nice person sometimes."

"Don't worry about it. Take a shower, please, before Logan gets back. I think he'd actually be willing to intervene, you know."

………………………………………………………………………………….

The woman who answered the door was in her sixties and she spoke with a thick accent. At first, she pretended that she didn't understand him, but Logan wasn't put off by something that subtle. He just raised his voice as he often did when talking to non-English speakers, his size and demeanor always a factor. They always either gave up and starting speaking English back or they went to find somebody who could.

This woman spoke back. "Lisa is not here. Why do you want here?"

"I just want to talk to her. She was helping us with an investigation."

The tiny woman looked away. "No, she is not here. I will give her message."

"Mrs. Polacek, can you write down for me Lisa's full name?" He pulled out his notebook and a pencil.

She narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to divine his true purpose. Reluctantly she took the pencil and notebook. What she handed back to him was Lisa Polacek. Then he handed it back to her. "Please write her birth name as well."

The woman stared at him for a few moments. Logan suspected that she had faced far more threatening figures than himself in her years, and he knew bullying her was not going to work. "Please Mrs. Polacek."

Finally she spoke. "It is not always safe to have real name even in this country."

He nodded. "I promise you that I only need it for our file."

She shook a finger at him. "This is why I don't want to."

He took her arm. "Mrs. Polacek, I am going to have to arrest you as a material witness in the disappearance of Alexandra Eames. You have the right to remain—"

She wrested her arm away and scribbled in the notebook. Then she shoved it at him and slammed the door in his face. Logan looked down at the name written on the sheet, "Latinka Pomoravlje". It was definitely not Lisa Polacek. Logan grinned and reached for his cell.

……………………………………………………………………………

Deakins waited for them at the entrance of the squad room. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so agitated. When they had shown up, he had been floored. It felt as shocking as if Elvis had walked in to discuss his prescription drug use. It was all he could to keep from climbing over his desk and getting his hands around the man's throat. He had to fight for all the control he had spent years building as a captain within the NYPD.

Jimmy Ross's lawyer looked more frightened than he did. Joining them was a slight woman with a briefcase who identified herself as his psychiatrist. Faces began appearing at the windows to his office, and Deakins suspected that he had better get this under control before his squad became the next police brutality headline in the New York Post.

Eyes flashing but refusing to look at his guests, he went to his office door and yelled at his people to get back to their work. People backed away, but nobody returned to their desk. He turned around and barked at those seated in his office to get up and follow him. He got them to the nearest interrogation room and locked them in. With his back to the door, he punched numbers into his cell phone.

He stood at the door to catch them as they came in. When Carver showed, he merely nodded and let the counselor go by. Carver slipped into the observation room. Logan and Barek showed up next, and Deakins pointed a finger and hissed at them. "This is my show. Get in observation and don't say a word until I get there."

Amazingly, Bobby seemed the calmest. Deakins had to plant a hand in his chest when he tried to get past him, but otherwise he acquiesced as the captain directed him into observation.

Carver and Barek had their faces an inch from the glass watching Jimmy Ross as he sat calmly in a metal chair waiting to make his statement. Logan paced the small room unable to contain his aggression. Bobby came in with the captain and everyone stopped.

"I don't know what the hell he has to say, but I want this done right. Do you understand,

People?" Deakins' face was red, his agitation beginning to show.

"Who goes in? I know I'm taking myself out of the running. My plan would cost me at least ten years at Sing Sing," Logan said, running a hand roughly through his hand.

"I'm going in alone," said Carver.

"Not a chance," Bobby whispered. "Not a chance."

"Detective, I don't need a loose cannon in there."

Bobby straightened up and ran a hand down his chin, his face being as shaved as it had been in two months. "I am good at this. I want his story and I want it told right. You're going to need me in there. Jimmy and I have history."

Carver looked over at Deakins who looked at the ceiling for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. His head nod was almost imperceptible.

Bobby looked at Carver and gestured with his hand. "After you, Counselor."

………………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: I am only ½ of a chapter ahead so the next one won't come until Thursday evening, I think. Thanks for reading. You guys are the greatest. I treasure my feedback. Someone asked how I knew Serbian names so well. I don't. I know Google real well.

Sheila

**Control **

**Chapter 7 **

Bobby went in after Carver. Sitting in a chair would have been an impossible exercise and so he planted himself in the corner of the room, folding his arms and staring at Ross; keeping space between them as much for his safety as for Ross's.

Carver sat and looked at the lawyer. "I understand your client is here to make a statement. We're happy to oblige, of course. We have a list of charges the length of my arm we would like to put to rest here."

The lawyer smirked. "This is not going to be a witch hunt. My client knows what he did, and will allocate to that only."

"Fine. Tell your client to begin. We've wanted to hear from him for some time now."

Jimmy cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. "I want to start with an apology to Detective Goren. He was right. I was suffering from psychosis and was delusional. In that state, I did hit the detective in the head with a baseball bat once. I had no intention of killing him which is why I stopped after that. I apologize, Detective, and will accept whatever consequences the state sees as appropriate for a mentally ill person committing such a crime."

Bobby's face was like stone.

Jimmy nodded. "And in this psychotic state, I am also guilty of stalking Alexandra Eames over a two week period. Again, I will accept the consequences of these actions."

Carver nodded. "Tell us more."

Jimmy looked at his lawyer and then shook his head. "Uh, that's it. I have nothing else to tell you."

Jimmy's lawyer spoke, "We're willing to plea to an assault and stalking. My client agrees to commitment at a state hospital until such time as he is deemed competent."

Carver shook his head at the table. "Not even close, counselor."

The psychiatrist spoke. "I saw Jimmy Ross the first time two weeks ago. He was deeply psychotic, paranoid, delusional. I checked him into a clinic, he's been medicated. I will testify that he was not competent at the time of these crimes."

"Doctor, your client has been accused of attempting to murder not one but two detectives. He stands accused of kidnapping a third, whom I might add, is still missing and presumed dead. I worry that I will have to amend the indictment to murder one any day now."

"I didn't do those things. I'm not a criminal. I'm mentally ill, but not a criminal," Jimmy started to squirm in his chair.

"Mr. Ross, this will not do. We have the phone calls. We have the flowers and the note you left in Carolyn Barek's apartment the night you attempted to kill her."

"Your case is circumstantial, Mr. Carver. There is no physical evidence that Mr. Ross committed that act. Let me tell you how this will play out in court. First we will ask the prosecution for the records of all felons who have shown any type of anger toward Ms. Barek. Then we will ask the prosecution to show proof that each one of these individuals and their families had been thoroughly investigated for the night of this crime. Then we will ask the prosecution to explain how the obsessed Mr. Ross could break into an apartment completely bypass the object of his obsession and turn his anger on Ms. Barek. Finally, we will show eyewitness testimony documenting Mr. Ross's longstanding fear of snakes."

Carver sighed. "That's Detective Barek to whom you are referring."

The lawyer smiled. "My apologies to the detective."

"And how will you explain Mr. Ross's disappearance at the exact time of Detective Eames's disappearance?"

"Mr. Ross was psychotic not stupid. He knew which way the wind was blowing and he had legitimate fear that the police would use him as a scapegoat in her disappearance."

"And would your client like to speculate what might have happened to the detective?"

Jimmy stared intently at Carver. "At first, I thought she had just run off, maybe hoping to frame me, but since it has been some time, I have another theory."

Bobby took this moment to move closer, head cocked, his eyes intent on his prey.

Jimmy could feel this and started to stutter. "An, uh, an old girlfriend who was obsessed with me started calling me. She wanted to reconnect. She said that she would do anything for me. I told her I was already involved with Detective Eames and wasn't interested. She threatened to take care of the detective. I didn't take her seriously at the time, but am beginning to wonder if perhaps, she was serious."

Bobby threw back his head and laughed. "Jimmy, you have the nerve of a cat napping on the stove. Unbelievable!"

"My client has never been charged or convicted of a crime. He is an upstanding member of the community with a long history of generous philanthropy. I have a list of prominent character witnesses in the business and scientific communities that runs two pages long. Mr. Carver, you know exactly how this is going to play out once a jury sees this man's kind face and humble demeanor. We will bury you in witnesses, and you will have nothing to counter with but the bitter, over imagined testimony of a few detectives and your pathetically circumstantial case."

Bobby moved into his face. "Where is she, Jimmy? Did you put her in the river when she fought with you? Did you realize what a lost cause it was? She spit in your face. I can imagine it. She said awful things to you. I know she did. That woman has a black belt in sarcasm. How long did it take before you knew she could never be conquered? How long, Jimmy? The jacket we found in the water suggests to us that she only lasted two weeks with you. You couldn't take any more than that, could you? She beat you. She never gave in, did she?"

Jimmy turned to his lawyer. "I feel threatened."

Carver gave Goren a look. "We'll have your client processed with detectives not familiar with the charges."

The trio got up and headed for the door. Bobby was a big man and not particularly graceful, and how he got from one end to the room to the door before Ross and company did will be subject to much speculation. He was in Ross's face before anyone knew it. "She humiliated you. You'll never have that kind of power over a woman again."

Jimmy's face twitched from his efforts at control.

Bobby heard the door open behind him, but he stayed focused on the man in front of him. "I see you for what you are, Jimmy. And you should know that she'll never leave you. She's stubborn like that. I know 'cause she sits with me every day. She'll be there laughing at you, taunting you for the rest of your life; reminding you that she's stronger, smarter, better than you."

The corner of Jimmy's mouth twitched and he leaned in close to Goren. "She was nothing but a pathetic little savage. I've had better."

Something in Bobby's head snapped and the next thing he felt was his cheek slamming onto the table top. Everyone was yelling and he could feel Logan and Deakins on top of him struggling to get handcuffs on. He turned his head to the door and saw detectives dragging Ross out of the room, blood streaming from his forehead. Bobby couldn't remember what he did to him, but his own head ached fiercely. He tried to pull away from his captors but Logan was almost his size and hung on. "You and me, Jimmy. That's how it's going to be!" he shouted as Ross disappeared from the room.

The lawyer finished yelling that anything his client said was an admission of nothing, and then ran out of the room after his client, the frightened psychiatrist trailing after him.

Breathing heavy, Goren looked up at Ron Carver waiting for the inevitable scolding. But Carver had none of the tension on his face that always seemed to be a part of their relationship. "I was a witness, Detective. You were clearly provoked. You'll be reprimanded, of course, but I heard what he said to you. I will testify on your behalf."

He turned to leave and Bobby wanted to shout after him that it didn't matter what happened. They could have his badge, they could have everything because there was nothing left of his life anymore. It all left with the look in Ross's eyes when he said those words. Logan tried to jerk him to his feet, and in that moment, Goren let loose with a howl of all the pain and rage trapped inside him.

……………………………………………………………………………….

He snapped the handcuff onto a pipe on the wall. Goren slumped in the chair and glared up at him. "You are out of your mind, Logan."

"Go ahead. Yell if you want. Lots of cops in here. I'm sure someone would come to your rescue."

Goren pulled at the handcuff, a sharp ping erupting from the water pipe. Patrons from around the bar looked up in surprise, noted the situation, saw Logan looking back at them, and turned back to their own repast. Goren sank back into his chair.

"When you least expect it, Logan, I swear to God…"

Logan puffed up. "Hey! Why wait! Let's go now. I'll cut you loose. We'll go out back. I could use the diversion. Let's do a little dancing, Bobby."

Goren looked away.

"Captain says you're mine, and God knows I'm not taking you back to that musty shrine you call an apartment. Only other choice is leaving you in lock-up and that just doesn't sit right with me. So we're here and we're going to drink 'cause I can't think of anything else to do right now."

"Let me go."

"Nope. You gotta a look in your eye. I don't like it."

A waitress stopped by. Her eyes drifted by Logan and settled on the big man handcuffed to the wall. "Hi Mike. Who's your friend?"

Logan smiled. "Meet the late great Bobby Goren, Rita. We're thirsty. How about some whiskey? Something midrange, I got bills to pay."

She nodded and threaded her way back through the crowd.

"What does tonight matter, Mike? How long do you think you can baby sit me? There's always tomorrow."

Logan sat down across from him. "I'll worry about that then."

"You saw what I saw, Logan. You know what he did. He killed her."

Logan closed his eyes. "I'm not going there. We don't have a body so I'm not going there."

Goren slammed the table with his free hand. "You saw the look on his face. He knows she's dead. She's gone. I…she's…it's my…God." Goren dropped his head against the pipe and groaned.

Rita appeared, a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses on her tray. "Here you are, boys. Compliments of the bar. Sal the bartender worked with Johnny Eames and everyone's talking about what you did today. You have friends here, Detectives."

Logan grinned as she walked away. "This is the good stuff, Bobby. A whole bottle of Jameson. Drink up." Logan poured in each glass.

"What was she talking about? He was right there and I didn't kill him. I stood there and then they were taking him away."

Logan chuckled. "You don't get why your head's been aching so bad, do you? Hell, I wouldn't remember either. You head butted him and hard. I could hear the bone on bone. I haven't seen anything that raw since a weird girlfriend I had once took me to a cage match. Jimmy screamed like a girl. You got some hard head, Bobby."

Bobby looked at his shot glass intently. Then he slowly reached over and downed it. Logan immediately refilled it.

"It's not going to help, Mike. She's still gone and now I know she's dead."

Logan sat back and sighed. "God, you're not going to stop, are you?"

Bobby swallowed his shot and pushed it back toward Mike. Logan considered it for a moment, and then he poured again. "Take it easy, big guy."

Goren snorted. "I need to use the restroom."

Logan rolled his eyes. "Pace it, Goren. I'm not dragging you in there every ten minutes 'cause you can't hold your liquor."

Goren glared at him. "This is futile. You know that, don't you?"

Logan looked up at a shadow standing over him. The bald countenance of Dr. Emil Skoda looked down at him. Logan smiled. "Damn, you know to show up at all the right times."

"Logan," he said with a heavy sigh as he surveyed the scene. "Nobody handles a situation quite like you. You really had to handcuff him to a pipe?"

Logan shrugged. "You have a better idea?"

Skoda closed his eyes. "Cut him loose, Mike."

"I can't control him then."

Skoda smiled. "Yeah, funny how that works. God help us all if you ever have a teen-age daughter."

Logan sighed. He found the key and unlocked the handcuff to the pipe. Goren raised his hand, the handcuff still hanging from his wrist. Logan shook his head. "Uh, uh. Just in case I need to lace you back up."

"How'd you know where we were?" Bobby raised his eyebrow.

"Deakins called me, and no, I am not getting paid." Skoda eased into the booth next to Goren.

Rita spotted them and showed up with another shot glass. Skoda nodded at Logan, and he poured it full.

"Logan here thinks I'm a suicide risk, Doc. What do you think?" Bobby downed another shot.

"I think you have a mother to take care of. Any other questions?"

"He killed her, Emil. I could see it in his eyes."

Skoda sighed. "Let's put him away then. Let's get him off the streets forever. We're going to have a problem with his psych history, but you and I both know this guy was lucid enough to understand what he was doing."

"You need to help me talk to him. I can't read him anymore. I just want to kill him."

"Yeah, Carver has him scheduled in my office at 10 tomorrow. I'm eager to get a real look at this guy." Goren looked at him with feverish eyes and Skoda shook his head. "And no, you can't be there."

Goren returned to his shot glass, edging it over toward the bottle again.

Logan looked at Skoda who shrugged. Logan tipped the bottle for Bobby yet again.

"Deakins told me that Eames is with you every day."

"I'm not delusional."

"Didn't think you were, but your captain's worried. Don't underestimate what all of this is doing to him. Deakins fights hard for all of you. Watching his team fall apart is really tearing him up. He's worried about you."

Goren nodded.

"Your life is not just your own, Bobby. People care. You're not just some case solving savant. You mean something to people. Take care of yourself. If you hurt yourself, then you hurt us too."

Bobby licked his lips and looked away. Logan tried to gauge the agitation coming off him.

Skoda took a deep breath and continued. "I believe she is with you every day, and I believe that you know what she would want for you. Don't disappoint her, Bobby. Don't disappoint her."

Bobby shook his head and hissed, "You're a son of a bitch, Emil, a regular son of a bitch."

Skoda chuckled. "If I had a nickel for every time someone called me that."

…………………………………………………………..

Hours later, it was just Logan and Goren. Most of the other patrons had wandered home in the early morning. There were only a few diehards left at the bar. The whiskey was empty, Goren having downed 2/3 of the bottle himself. Goren had settled his head onto the table and was gently snoring. Logan had been mulling over the task of getting Goren home for the last half hour, and couldn't come up with a plan that didn't include shouldering at least 250 lbs. of dead weight half way across Manhattan.

Logan was signaling for Rita to call a cab for them when Goren groaned and lifted his blurry head off his arms. "Mike, so help me God, I loved her. I have loved her for years." His voice caught and he stopped for a moment. Then his soft, wet eyes connected with Logan again. "It was wrong. I knew that and so I never allowed myself to entertain the possibilities, ever. But she's gone now, and I feel like I've lost everything. I feel like I've lost my dreams, my future. God, I feel empty."

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but Goren had already dropped his head back into his arms. For awhile, he just listened to Goren's tortured breathing interspersed with ragged sighs, and he found that he himself was struggling with a lump in his throat.

…………………………………………………………………….

"Bobby!"

Goren jerked into an upright position. A white, blinding pain erupted in his temples. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

"Get dressed!"

He peered at the agitated presence at the foot of his bed. "Jesus, Logan, don't you have a home?"

"I was just there. Now get up!"

Painfully, he opened both eyes and fixed Logan with a blurry glare. A rattle told him that Logan had never removed the handcuffs hanging off one wrist. "How did you get in here?"

"I took your spare and made my own key. Otherwise, it's hell getting you to open the damn door."

"Logan, you had no right!"

Mike threw a shirt at him. "Save it, Bobby. Barek found the property. It's a two hour drive from here. Locals are going to meet us there." Then he disappeared into the hallway continuing his monologue as he went. "I'm searching for the ibuprofen. I'm guessing that your hangover is epic. Probably didn't help that you used your head as a battering ram either. Is your coffee maker worth a damn? I'm giving you ten minutes to shower."

Bobby scrambled out of bed reaching the bathroom just as the sound of breaking coffee cups erupted from the direction of his kitchen.

…………………………………………………………….

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

12

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.

A/N: You guys rock! I can't wait until tomorrow night to post 'cause all of your wonderful feedback has caused me to neglect things that are actually of some substance to my career and my future. Instead, I have chosen to exist in this fantastic dream world. It's fun for awhile, but sucks when it comes time to pay bills. Anyway, this story has a little ways yet to travel. I'm thinking 5 or 6 more chapters maybe. Take care and just to let you know, the feedback works.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 8**

It was quite a party on the way up. Deakins signed himself on for the drive as did Carver although exactly how they reasoned their participation on what could be a routine search was anybody's guess.

Goren, Barek, and Logan sat in back; the two men jockeying for space to stretch their long legs. The drive was two hours of thick silence, nobody daring to speculate or express even one word of hope.

It was secluded; down a dirt road off the highway, deep in the woods of the Adirondacks. A sheriff and two deputies met them in the driveway of the home.

The sheriff has long lost the battle of the bulge, his tight belt being the only thing still engaged in any form of resistance. The man looked over the warrant from Carver and then nodded to his men. Three minutes of knocking yielded no response. The younger deputy stepped back and kicked in the door.

Guns drawn, they piled over each other to get into the house; trotting alongside walls, and clearing doorways before they entered. Deakins was the one to find the bedroom with the unique salty, sour human smell. The sheets were crumpled and Deakins threw them back to find bloodstains trailing down the bottom sheet. Bobby followed him in, and caught the whiff of Alex Eames. He knew the unique smell that was hers; an odor slightly spicy like cinnamon with edges of soap and shampoo, only now the smell was dank and rude. Deakins and Goren looked at each other, and they both knew she had been here. Backing out slowly, Deakins secured the door as to preserve the crime scene.

A shout sounded from the basement, and everyone moved. They found the deputy at the bottom of the stairs staring at the form of a slight woman swinging lightly from the ceiling, a thick noose choking her neck. The color, the smell, and the lividity suggested that she had probably been there for at least 48 hours.

Logan moved past them all to get a look at the girl's face. Then he whirled around emitting a string of curses. "It's her. It's Polacek. Damn it!"

……………………………………………………………………………..

The sheriff had long since given up trying to follow the intensity of their anger. They wanted to bring in their own crime scene unit and they wanted special jurisdiction over the crime. He knew better than to stand in the way of that much emotional energy, and since she didn't seem to be one of his townies, he let them have it all. The silver-haired captain seemed to have a phone growing out of his ear, the way he paced the living room barking into his small cell. The rest of them sat at the kitchen table staring at a letter they had bagged as evidence. Sheriff saw that the biggest one wasn't good at sharing the prize, moving it this way and that so that he could see it from different angles. The other big one kept yelling about a set-up while his female partner urged him to calm down. The black lawyer just looked like he wanted to snatch the damn letter up, and leave them all behind.

"This letter is not conclusive," Carolyn said to Carver.

"Of course not, but Ross's lawyer is good, really good and he doesn't have to prove a thing. He just has to convince a jury that this letter creates a reasonable doubt of his client's guilt and it probably will."

Bobby's finger nervously tapped on the plastic of the evidence bag. "She wrote this, but you can see the duress. Her hand is shaky, hesitant."

Carver shook his head. "His lawyer will say that she was deeply suicidal at that point, contemplating the end of her life. It would be natural for her to be agitated."

"Jesus, come on People. None of us believes that she would write a letter confessing to Eames' murder and then hang herself in the basement. I mean, when was the last time any of you saw a female suicide by hanging. Besides, we know Jimmy orchestrated this whole thing. I bet we find his finger prints all over this joint." Logan looked ready to jump out of his skin.

"But no jury will ever meet her. You'll have to explain that, and it won't be enough especially when her psychiatric history comes to light. And of course, Ross's prints will be all over the house, he'll say he's used it as a retreat the last six years, but he won't admit to being here recently."

Logan slammed a fist into the table. "He does not get a walk! He does not get a walk! It will not happen!"

Barek put a hand on his arm and shook her head. "Calm down, Mike. Please. We need to think."

Bobby shoved the letter in front of them. "She doesn't tell us where Alex is. She should have told us."

"A lot of things should have happened," Carver began.

"No, listen. If she was so guilt ridden about killing Alex, why would she not tell us where she was? She's already telling us that she did it. It's logical that she would then want us to find her and give her a proper burial."

Logan shrugged. "She dumped her in the river."

Barek shivered at the matter-of-fact way they were discussing Eames' death, but she understood their need to detach in order to problem solve.

"If she dumped her in the river, she would tell us. She would apologize for the fact that we might not recover the body. She's overcome with guilt, she's about to hang herself, and she wants to make herself right with us and with God, but she tells us nothing about how to find her."

"Say you're right. Does this prove she's alive?"

Bobby closed his eyes. "No, it doesn't. I think it proves Jimmy forced her to write this. He forced her to stand on that box, and he put the noose around her neck."

Logan cursed under his breath.

"You don't think Eames is alive?" Carver looked at him intently.

Goren's voice lowered to a whisper. "How can she be? Why would Ross be confident enough to come in? He thinks she's dead, and if we don't think Polacek killed her, then that leaves Jimmy. I saw the look on his face. He was feeling triumphant, satisfied. He doesn't believe we can reach him."

"So we shouldn't hope?" Logan's voice rose a notch.

Barek considered telling him to get up a take a walk when Goren leaned and glared at Logan. "Forget hope. All we have left here is a mission. We stop Jimmy Ross. And for right now, that's enough to keep me on my feet." He shoved his chair away from the table and got up, slamming the kitchen door behind him.

……………………………………………………………..

Logan found him leaning against a large oak, staring down at a small stream running through the forest. He approached carefully, unsure of what to expect. Goren's voice stopped him short. "The sound of water is soothing to me. I used to go down to the boardwalk when I was a kid and just sit off the pier with my eyes closed concentrating on the sounds of water crashing against the wood. It always gave me peace from whatever was happening at home."

"How's the stream doing for you?" Logan put his hands in the pockets of his leather coat and cocked his head.

"It's the sound of life, and I guess I'm trying to remind myself that life will go on even if she isn't there."

"Yeah, well, when we're not around a body of water, I can always drag you into the john and run the faucet for ya' 'cause I'm not letting you forget that you're in this life for the long haul. Think of it as a gift from one lapsed altar boy to another."

Bobby shook his head. "Have you ever thought maybe your destiny was to be a therapist, Logan?"

Mike grimaced at him. Then he remembered what he had come to say. "Barek and I, we're going to go to Polacek's house and talk to her mother. She needs to hear the news from somebody. Deakins said you should stay here, direct the CSU team when they get here."

Logan turned to leave.

"Mike, I'm coming with you."

"Bobby, I don't—"

"I don't know anything about Polacek. I want to see her house, meet her mother."

"I don't know. Deakins says—"

"I'll behave. Come on."

………………………………………………………………………………………

Barek took the forward position, Logan and Goren backing her. The door finally opened to reveal the small, older woman whom Logan had power struggled with just days earlier.

Carolyn gave her a warm smile. "We're here to talk to you about your daughter, Latinka."

The woman shook her head. "She is not here. I told the big one back there all of that four days ago."

"Mrs. Pomoravlje, are you telling me that she's been gone that long?"

"I am not telling you anything."

"Mrs. Pomoravlje, please let us in. We know where Latinka is."

The woman's dark eyes narrowed at Barek and, for a moment, she wondered if they were going to be forced to tell this woman about her daughter's death out on the doorstep. But the woman stepped away from the door, and the three detectives filed into her small living room. It was dim inside; a room crowded with pictures and curios. The couches were overstuffed, covered in bright cabbage roses. She gestured at them, and the three of them sank into their depths.

The woman found a chair across from them, and she sat, clasping her tiny hands in her lap. "You have talked to Latinka?"

"No," Carolyn began. "We found her. Mrs. Pomoravlje, Latinka is dead."

The woman turned to stone.

"I am sorry that we have to tell you this. We've identified her."

A sound escaped like she choking, and then she collapsed into helpless sobs.

Logan looked at Barek, and she gestured for them to wait. For a few minutes, the woman's grief filled the room. Then she looked up. "You have the killer. Jimmy Ross. You have him?"

"Mrs. Pomoravlje, we don't really know what happened yet. Do you have reason to believe that Jimmy Ross did this?"

"He is the devil. He destroyed her. Of course, he did this."

"Okay, so has the devil stopped by? Has he called?" Logan asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

Goren leaned forward. "Ma'am, has Jimmy been in touch with your daughter over the last month and a half?"

Pomoravlje turned to him. "She wouldn't say, but that's when she started to disappear for days. Only one person could be responsible for that."

"What information did she give you about these disappearances of hers?"

Tears welled up in her eyes again. "My Latinka said that I would be very proud of her. She said she was doing something secret, and when it was done, I would know how strong she had become."

Bobby frowned. "Can you imagine what she meant by this?"

"No, I worried. She was still too fragile to be on her own, but she insisted."

"Can we look around her room?"

"No!" The woman was on her feet. "It is too much. You will leave now."

"Mrs. Pomoravlje, we need your help to make a case against him. Please!" Bobby stood up as well.

She backed away from him. "Stay away from me, Cossack."

Barek put a hand on his arm. "Bobby, sit down, please. My guess is that Mrs. Pomoravlje has had some bad experiences with secret police."

Bobby slowly sat down again.

The woman stared at him intently for a moment as if trying to make a decision. Then she turned to Barek. "His name is Bobby?"

Barek nodded, confusion spreading across her features.

"You, Cossack! Tell me the truth. The missing girl, the one you asked about." She pointed at Logan. "Does this Bobby know her?"

Logan nodded. "She's a close friend of his."

She returned her attention to Goren but said nothing.

Goren looked up at her as softly as he could manage. "Please, do you know something about what happened to her? She was my friend. I cared about her very much, and we've been trying so hard to find her. Please."

Something settled in the woman. "You will stop Jimmy Ross?"

Bobby nodded. "Yes, ma'am, I will."

She nodded. "I know something. I will show you. Come."

Puzzled, he got up from the couch and followed. Barek and Logan got up as well, but when she saw this, she stopped. "Only him."

Barek and Logan exchanged looks, but did as she said and settled back into the couch.

She stopped at a bedroom at the end of the hallway and opened the door. He followed her into a dark bedroom, the light from the hallway being the only illumination. He reached for the light, but her tiny hand stopped him. "No, it disturbs her."

Something crashed inside of him and an unidentifiably intense emotion filled his gut.

She walked over to a bed that was a mountain of blankets and afghans, and pulled back one of the blankets. A thatch of dark blonde hair appeared. Mrs. Pomoravlje turned to him. "Latinka brought her here three days ago. She said that a man had been bad to her, beat her, starved her, and filled her with drugs. She asked me to take care of her until she came back."

Bobby found himself rocking, and reached for the support of the doorway.

"Latinka said she would be back the next morning. She said she would take her home. I accused her of being with Jimmy, but she told me not to worry. She told me that everything would be alright, but she said that it was dangerous to be gone too long. I have been waiting for her to return."

Bobby launched himself from the doorway and headed for the bed with an uneasy gait. "Is she okay?"

The woman shook her head. "She is sick. She has fever. She was dehydrated and too thin. He used many drugs on her. It is only for minutes that she makes any sense. Mostly, she sleeps. She has many nightmares and I have to sit with her most of the day. I've been waiting for Latinka to come and tell me what to do next." Tears erupted again and the woman retreated to the corner of the room.

Bobby sat on the bed carefully. He reached out and stroked the whisper fine hair he had so often longed to touch. His fingers found her forehead, and it was hot and dry. Clearly she was feverish. "Alex," he said softly. He wanted to say more, but he couldn't trust his voice.

From the corner, Mrs. Pomoravlje said, "She calls for you sometimes. She calls for you to help her."

The head stirred and a dark green eye opened. Bobby could see she was barely lucid. He reached over and stroked her hair. "Alex, it's Bobby."

She reacted at the sound, and an arm flew out from underneath the covers to feel for him. Then terror rose in her face and she screamed.

………………………………………………………………………

Alex was a fury of arms and legs, pushing and punching him. "Magda! Magda, he's here. Get me a knife, Magda!" In his confusion, Bobby tried to hold on to her, but this only fueled her panic. The tiny Mrs. Pomoravlje flew across the room, and climbed onto the bed between them. Talking in a foreign tongue, she soothed Alex with her tone, wrapping her arms around her and rocking her. When Alex started to calm, the old woman switched to English. "Jimmy is not here. Jimmy is not here. I promise you, Baby"

Alex's feverish eyes glared at him over her shoulder. "It's a trick, Magda. It's a disguise. This donkey here thinks I'll believe anything."

Logan poked his head in the door. Clearly the commotion had sounded through the house. He stopped short when he saw the sight before him on the bed. His mouth dropped. "Jesus, Joseph, and Mary! Is this really happening? Is that Eames?"

Bobby jerked his head in his direction. "She's spooked and she's sick. He drugged her with God knows what. Call Deakins. She's going to need a hospital."

Logan stood there as if hypnotized for a moment. Then he nodded as the information finally reached his brain, and he closed the door behind him.

Bobby turned his attention to Alex's ragged breathing. "It's me, Alex. Smell me. No disguise can mask a man's scent." He reached a hand out to her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, shaking her head. "I know your scheming, Jimmy. Bobby's dead. He died in the hospital from his injuries so you can just stop it right now, you sniveling son of a bitch."

Goren nodded, emotion crowding his body. "Jimmy lied to you, Alex. He wanted to hurt you."

"You showed me the newspaper. I saw the obituary. Try again, asshole."

"It's not true. Jimmy's a trickster, but he can't fool you. You know me, Alex." He held out his hand close to her face. "Feel my skin. You know me."

She looked at him hard for a moment as if at war with her delusions. He braced himself for more colorful language, but she was silent. Finally she reached her hand out slowly, and touched his. He allowed his hand to slowly enclose hers. He could feel her shivering, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming the emotion surging through him. She brought his hand to her face and sniffed, her eyes closed. For a moment, she said nothing, then a ragged sob escaped her.

She shook her head, and disengaged herself from Magda Pomoravlje. "Oh God in heaven, Magda. I think it's really Bobby."

He nodded, not trusting himself to do more.

Still holding his hand, she looked at him with rheumy eyes, her forehead creased in that way so familiar to him. "I lost count of the tricks, Bobby. I'm sorry. I must have believed him when I shouldn't have. My brain…is fuzzy so much and I can't think..."

He leaned forward, talking softly. "You're going to be just fine, Alex. You got nothing to be sorry for; you're still the toughest cop I know. I should've known he'd never beat you." His voice caught. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've known."

The realization made Alex suck in her breath. This means Jimmy's gone. Right? Jimmy's gone."

Bobby stopped. It would be too complicated to explain it to her right now. "He's gone. He won't ever come near you again."

She nodded, then she started to collapse, and he saw the fear fleeing her body. He reached out and gathered her into his arms. She shivered against his chest and he pulled his coat around her. Her arms felt frail and thin like a school girl, and her body felt like a furnace. He ran his hands over the length of her body to see if any obvious injuries presented themselves, and noted the white gown she was wearing. Frowning, he looked over at Mrs. Pomoravlje, "Where did she get this?"

"She was wearing it when Latinka brought her."

Bobby ran through the fabric with his hands, and found a group of stains near the bottom. His nose twitched and he knew immediately what it was. Anger boiled over in his gut. He turned again to the woman and steadied his voice, "I am so sorry to ask this of you, but do you think you could find some warm clothes that Alex could borrow. This nightgown is evidence. She shouldn't be wearing it."

Her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, the woman merely nodded and went to her daughter's closet.

Carolyn Barek crept into the room. The light behind her illuminated her dark curls. "Bobby? An ambulance is on its way."

Bobby nodded, then he whispered into her hair. "Carolyn's here. Mike is too. We're all very happy people right now."

Carolyn ventured over carefully. "Hi Alex."

Alex shifted her head so that an eye peeked at her. "I worried about you. That idiot pig and his snake tricks: I told him you stomped them to death with your bare feet."

Carolyn laughed, letting the tears run down on her cheeks. "I can live with that story, Eames. In fact, I'm going to go back, and change my statement first thing."

Bobby caught her eye and pointed at the stains on her gown. "We're going to need an evidence bag."

Carolyn nodded and left. Magda Pomoravlje picked out a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt. Barek returned with a large plastic bag.

Bobby whispered at Alex. "Honey, we have to take off your nightgown. You're too cold. We're going to put you in some nice warm sweat pants and shirt."

She nodded into his chest. "I know what you're doing, Bobby, and it's okay. We can't hide from what happened." He looked into her feverish eyes for a moment and nodded his agreement; using words would only overwhelm her with all that he felt. Then he pulled at the bottom of the gown and slowly pulled it up. He stopped short when he saw the angry green and black bruising on her thighs, but he shut his eyes and worked to settle his breathing. This was no time for the energy he was feeling in his gut. She needed only what was gentle and good in him now. He carefully pulled it over her head, Carolyn helping her with her arms. He kept his eyes focused on a picture on the wall, careful to protect her privacy as she lay completely naked against his chest. Carolyn let him drop it in the bag and she quickly sealed it.

Magda pulled the sweatshirt over her head while Carolyn wrestled with the sweatpants. When they were finished, he helped her curl up into his lap. Her heavy breathing told him she had gone back to sleep. He looked up at Carolyn, "Cancel the ambulance. We're not taking her to a local hospital. Her pulse is thready but strong. Let's drive her down to the city and check her in there. Let's take her home."

Carolyn nodded. "Good. Mike can hardly contain himself. I'll drive. He's drink with victory right now."

Bobby grew a shadow of smile.

Carolyn cocked her head. "I'm going to give you a minute. Mrs. Pomoravlje and I should go talk about making arrangements for Latinka."

She put her arm around Magda Pomoravlje's shoulders and gently steered her out of the room.

For a while, he just sat alone in the dark room, holding her tightly. He rested his face on her head and allowed his breath to grow into hers. Bobby had no interest in allowing this moment to pass. This was a moment of sweet perfection when everything that was right had aligned itself and nothing evil could penetrate. It wouldn't last, and so he wanted to sharpen his memory of it as best he could.

It was only when he felt her hair get damp that he noticed the moisture snaking down his face. Finally, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and cleared his throat. Then he pulled her to him tightly and slowly stood. She didn't even stir when he shifted, and he felt like she was no weight at all as he carefully steered her limp body through the narrow hallway.

………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

8

A/N: I received very kind reviews on the last chapter, and I am very appreciative of this. I needed a couple of days to collect myself and do other things. There is not going to be an easy denouement. In my first CI story, I let them find each other with no real struggle. This is not happening this time, and it feels more authentic based on who they are. I hope you hang in there, and I hope to continue hearing from you.

Sheila

Control

Chapter 9

The Eames family had no sense for economy of effort. It wasn't enough for a few of the Eames to wait and report back to the rest. All of them had to come. Brothers, sisters, cousins, uncles, and aunts all wandered in and out of the waiting room, talking, joking, hugging, patting each other on the back, and generally fueling an atmosphere of celebration. Each new arrival received an update from a relative which included a less than discreet finger pointed in Bobby's direction. Then yet another stranger would head toward him, pumping his hand heartily and telling him that they had been hearing about him for years.

Bobby nodded with each new introduction, getting up, and letting himself be manhandled by the relatives of his partner. Then he would sit back down in the midst of the chaos, and try to return to obscurity.

Deakins walked around the room like a new father, puffed out, and proud. To everyone who would listen, he told stories about what a great cop Alex was. Logan and Barek had escaped the crowd early, excusing themselves to catalog evidence back at the squad.

Bobby couldn't begin to measure his exhaustion; every cell in his body wanted to shut down and take a long vacation. He wanted nothing more than to lean back in his chair and close his eyes. All of the people milling around wouldn't have made a difference. He was sure he would sleep just fine in the midst of it of all.

Unfortunately the Eames weren't interested or even aware of his exhaustion. He had become a new family member. Every introduction included an invitation to some upcoming family event: dinners, drinks at the bar, birthday parties.

Any moment, he was left alone took him back to the car ride into the city. Mike spent the whole car ride with his head swiveled to the back seat, alternately between disbelief and joy. Bobby was silent most of the drive, letting his colleagues carry the energy of the moment. She lay hot in his arms, breathing heavy. Every few minutes, she twitched and her face screwed up. He wondered about the visions running through her head, but he knew he had no entry into her terror other than to stroke her hair and whisper words of comfort into his ear.

It was once that she woke; her body became rigid and her eyes flew open. She looked up at him, eyes wide and wet. For a moment, he wondered if she wouldn't recognize him again, but her body calmed when her eyes found his. Without a word, she dropped her head back onto his chest and let her breathing settle into his again.

Mike wanted to go out and celebrate. He wanted to buy the biggest steak in Manhattan, price be damned. Bobby wanted to do nothing more than to get her into a hospital bed, and then find a corner where he might close his eyes for a moment. Carolyn could sense the imbalance of energy between the two men, and she did her best to keep Mike occupied.

In the backseat, Bobby relished any respite he got from the conversation. So many feelings were warring for his attention, and he wanted nothing more than to settle them. He closed his eyes and pulled her more tightly against him, stroking her hair. It was almost cathartic. One minute, he was trying to calm his emotions, and then next, a realization was slapping him across the face. His eyes flew open and he sat there, a fear growing in him almost as potent as anything Jimmy Ross had thrown his direction.

He didn't realize he had actually closed his eyes until a cool hand slipped into his. Startled, he blinked and found Alex's mother seated next to him, a smile creasing her tired face. "You must be exhausted."

He smiled. "I won't lie."

"Give them a few minutes and they'll be gone. I told Johnny that he needed to start herding them all down to Keegan's Pub. The hospital is no place for all these hooligans."

Bobby studied her face as she spoke. She had the same mischievous look in her eye that Alex carried every day like a weapon.

"He wanted to drag you down there with them, but I saved you from that special torture."

"I don't know how to thank you."

"You're the one, Bobby. You're the one we owe."

He looked down. "I don't think that's true. We stumbled onto her, nothing more. If anything, I was the one who was sure Jimmy killed her."

She slipped her arm through his. "You never gave up, and you wouldn't have, no matter what. I can see it in your eyes, and I don't want to hear any different."

He leaned toward her. "Your daughter is a lot like you, you know."

"Yup, my Alex and I are two peas in a pod."

Bobby looked up and saw that the room had emptied considerably. "Nobody waited for you. Would you like me to walk you down?"

She shook her head. "I was a nurse for 30 years, and I know a rape kit when I see one. They brought one into her room about 20 minutes ago. I'm not going anywhere."

Bobby nodded. "I'm sorry."

She patted his hand. "Alex is my strongest child. She always has been. She never had much for size, but she's been a firecracker since day one: willful, brave, certain. She would have been the devil to raise if not for that big heart of hers."

"I've always wondered what she was like as a girl." He noted that Mary Eames' eyes were the same dark grey/green as Alex's. Her face was much more a road map of life, but he could clearly see Alex in her mother's face. He relaxed into the notion that this woman couldn't be this familiar and still be a stranger to him. He found that he was very comfortable with her.

Mary Eames smiled at him. "She was a very determined little girl…Uh, here's a story for you. She had a friend on the block…name was Mary Rose. Alex put the initials together and called her Mister. She read younger than my other children, and was really tickled she could make the connection between MR and mister. They had known each other since they were four, but when they got to third grade, everything started to shift. Mister lived in a pretty awful home. She was as skinny as a rail and always looked like she dressed in the dark; everything was a size too small. Her hair was a ball of tangles. I used to keep a brush just for her in the house." Her smile grew. "Whenever I could catch her, she got that wild hair brushed and sometimes a bath…Anyway, the two girls were in the same class, and they had gotten to that age where kids become really aware of difference. And the kids took to teasing Mister. Every day on the playground, this group of boys would taunt her. One day, Alex joined them in their taunting…Oh, Bobby, she came home heartbroken. She had seen the look in Mister's eyes at her betrayal and it dawned on her what she had done. I didn't think that child was ever going to stop crying. She came to me the next day and said she was going to make it right. Every day for the next three weeks, she came home with bruises or a torn shirt. She told me she was protecting Mister. The school called, of course, and I watched her at recess from her teacher's classroom. She was this tiny thing, always the smallest in her class, and whenever anyone tried to tease Mister, she went after them like a little bulldozer. Of course, I had to step in and moderate that behavior a little, but the school understood what she was doing. After a few weeks, nobody messed with Mister. In fact, Mister ended up being a very popular girl. She graduated at the top of her class, was homecoming queen, went to an Ivy League school on a scholarship, and has a consulting firm out in L.A, three kids, and a husband who has his own jet. She shows up around holiday time most years to spend a few days with us; her parents being long gone…Alcoholics. And she always tells the story about how Alex beat her a path to success."

"She never told me that story."

"She's a private woman."

They were both silent for a few minutes when Mary patted his hand again. "Tell me about the Pomoravlje's."

"They saved her life. My thinking on this is that Jimmy never imagined that Latinka would be anything but obedient. It makes sense that he wouldn't get his hands dirty so when it was clear that Alex wasn't going to be his next slave, he told Latinka to get rid of her. Only Latinka was her own woman. Instead of dumping her in the river, she brought her to her mother's house. Then she had to get back to Jimmy before he suspected anything had gone wrong."

"Why didn't she just call the police?"

He shook his head. "I think Jimmy had become mythical to her. She had experience trying to involve police in the past. Jimmy always came out smelling like a rose; she came out looking like a crazy person. Jimmy was her dragon to slay. It would be her final redemption. She would finally be her own woman again. Then she could go back to her mother's house, and contact us down in the city. She knew we didn't like Jimmy. Probably figured we were her best bet…Only she didn't realize that Jimmys psychosis masked his sociopathology. Under all that mental illness lurks a plain old bad person. My guess is that he drugged her and then killed her. We'll see a tox screen in a few hours."

Mary nodded, her eyes glistening. "You went to this woman's house to tell her that Latinka was dead, and she gave you the gift of my daughter. She took good care of her, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did. She worked hard to keep her safe."

"There will be a funeral I assume. I want to go. I want to talk to Mrs. Pomoravlje. Can you help me arrange this?"

Bobby nodded.

She squeezed his hand. "You're a good man, Bobby. Alex is lucky to have you."

…………………………………………………………………

Mary woke him when the doctor came out. He stood up with her. She placed her hand under his arm for support. "How is she?"

"She's got a nasty kidney infection, probably from dehydration. She's pumped full of who knows what. I don't think we're going to be able to isolate everything in the tox screen. It'll take her another couple of days to detox fully. There's nothing wrong with her spirit though. She calls me a horse's ass every time I touch her."

"What about injuries? I saw the rape kit go in," Mary asked.

The doctor nodded. "Bruises, contusions, and definitely signs of sexual assault."

Mary nodded, gripped Bobby's arm tightly. "She's very strong. She'll be just fine.

Bobby needed the subject changed. "Is she still delusional?"

The doctor shook his head. "She's in and out. Safety is of primary concern for her right now. She's been calling for Bobby. I assume that's you."

Bobby nodded, a touch of pink rising in his face.

"She's not lucid enough to distinguish between reality and hallucinations most of the time. We need to create a safe atmosphere for her. She needs the rest."

"What can we do?"

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. "This is not necessarily medicine in the way I was taught, but I think she needs someone familiar in there with her; someone she sees as safe."

Mary looked up at Bobby. "Let me take the first shift, Bobby. You're exhausted and I've been waiting six weeks for something to do. It'll be okay. My girl knows her mother's voice. She'll be fine."

Bobby wanted to protest. He wanted to explain to her how it was important that he stay and be there; Alex was already responding to his presence. Instead he said nothing.

Mary looked up at him, patting his shoulder. "Get some sleep, Bobby. She's going to need you tomorrow. This is something I can do."

Bobby nodded uncertainly. "Ah…you can call…if anything happens…I want to be here."

Mary laughed. "We won't forget you. Believe me, we won't forget you."

Bobby let himself be led to the elevator. He didn't remember even saying good-bye. On auto-pilot, he hailed a cab and found himself unlocking his door twenty minutes later. He shed his clothes and climbed into bed. A stray growl erupted from his stomach, but he had no energy or interest in addressing it. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to take him. Like a thick quilt on a cold day, sleep warmed him.

It was some time later when he realized he wasn't alone in his bed. He shifted, and found her blonde hair peeking from under the covers. He pulled the blanket back, and there she was stretched out, wearing only her milky skin. She turned her sharp eyes to him. "Now I'm all yours, in every form you can imagine."

He reached out to touch the skin on her back, and traced it down to her waist. She arched an eyebrow at him, and turned until she was facing him. Her breasts were small and nipples pink. They were no surprise to him. She had sat on his lap without clothes for long enough so that no amount of staring off at a focal point kept those mysteries from him.

"How does it feel, Bobby? Is it what you wanted?"

Bobby felt fear growing in his gut. "I..feel confused about this."

She leaned her face on her elbow and narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh, come on. Even if I never tell you how many men I've slept with in my lifetime, I can assure you that I have never had as intimate an experience as I had with you when you found me."

He shook his head. "It was born out of circumstance, Alex. We have to tell ourselves that."

Her mouth curled into a grin. "Even before Jimmy, I could feel it between us. Remember that time after that Wilkins case, we were so tired. We were walking up the stairs, you were climbing behind me, and I knew you weren't stretching those long legs at all or you would have left me in the dust. A stair ahead I was tall enough so that I could feel your breathing on my neck. For half a staircase, we slowed, you and I, savoring the forbidden. We knew it couldn't be acknowledged, but we slowed down so that we might have that one moment together. I knew how close you were, and more than anything, I wanted to stop short and feel your face crash into me, your hands fumbling for purchase around my waist. I wanted you to fall into me, and not want to untangle yourself. I wanted us to tear at each other's clothes, pulling and ripping until we were open to one another, and then I wanted you to take me right there in the back stairwell, floor 3 of 1PP. But then, of course, I remembered what was at stake, and I trotted up the stairs away from you."

"This is exactly my point. We would risk everything. Deakins would—"

She pointed a finger at him. "This is not about Deakins. Don't get distracted from the truth."

"It would ruin us, Alex. You know it as much as I do. Maybe we'd be happy for a few weeks, maybe a month, but then it would start to change. I would be the…acquired taste that was a little too acquired, and you would be trying to figure out how to get me to communicate when I was in a mood or wondering how to make me into someone who was presentable at family functions."

"I think you did well yesterday. My mother loves you."

"Your mother is one thing, but the rest of them left me strangled and gasping for air."

"They came in a herd. It's overwhelming and you were tired."

"Yes, and I am Bobby Goren, the man who tap dances his way between sanity and insanity on a daily basis. I'm not meant for permanent co-habitation, and believe me, that's what we're talking here. There's no casual dating possible between the two of us primarily because there is no casual anything left between the two of us."

"You are part of me and I a part of you. We know that now. The separation was our education. We have two choices; we live with the tension of knowing and doing nothing or we risk everything."

She reached out and rested one of her small hands on his chest over his heart and closed her eyes. "Just let me listen for a moment."

His breath caught in his throat. "Please Alex. Stop now or there's no going back."

She chuckled huskily. "We passed the stop sign some time ago."

She trailed her fingers down the hair of his chest, past his stomach, and—"

Bobby sat up in bed, breathing hard. His bedside alarm read 3:00 a.m. He looked beside him to confirm what he already knew. He was alone. She had climbed back inside his head, just waiting for him to let down his guard again. He could try and convince himself that it would fade as the days passed and she grew healthy, but he knew that the two of them had passed the point where anything would ever be simple between them again.

………………………………………………………………………………..

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

12

A/N: I hope you like this. It is getting psychologically very interesting for me to write. I am as curious as anyone to see what happens next. Thanks for the support. It feeds me and keeps me going.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 10**

Logan saw him coming and waved him down the hall frantically. "Where have you been? I've been calling all morning."

Goren trotted up to him, face unshaven. "How the hell did this happen! He's already had a bond hearing."

"Carver had to amend the indictment when we found Alex alive. And since we have no statement from her yet, the only relevant charges are your attempted murder."

"What Judge do we have?"

"Carlin. Big civil liberties guy. Carver's got his hands full in there."

They reached the ornate, wooden doors to the courtroom and entered quietly. Logan purposefully stood in the aisle until Goren found a seat next to Deakins. Then he followed him, effectively boxing him in.

Carver was on his feet before the bench ahead of them, his voice betraying the frustration he felt. "Frankly Judge, I am concerned about Detective Eames' civil rights in this matter. We found her less than two days ago. She is so badly traumatized and ill from her experience that we have not been able to effectively interview her. Putting James Ross back on the streets before we have a chance to do that is…foolhardy at best."

Ross' Lawyer chimed in. "My client has been charged with a crime that he is willing to make a plea on. There is no reason for him to be remanded on charges which have not even been filed. It is a violation of his right to due process."

Looking bored, Judge Carlin leaned in. "Mr. Carver, do you have a reasonable expectation that these charges will be amended soon?"

"Yes, your honor. We are working on the forensics, and giving us a few more days will no doubt allow us opportunity to interview Detective Eames."

"Your honor, I don't think Mr. Carver is giving you the whole picture here. The detective was drugged heavily during her ordeal. Hallucinations have been the most they have been able to get out of her. There is no guarantee that her memories will be real events or more hallucinations. Gabiano vs. Hawkins tells us that testimony of someone who was as drugged as she was is suspect at best, and shouldn't be admitted into evidence. You will have a brief to that effect on your desk this afternoon. My client has not been proven guilty, and yet he is being unlawfully detained. Surely your honor can see the wrongness of this action."

Carlin looked at Carver. "I didn't know that Detective Eames had been subject to hallucinations."

"Your honor, she is recovering. We have no reason to believe that she won't recover relevant memories. To put this man back out on the streets is irresponsible." Carver could no longer hold his emotions.

"That's enough, Mr. Carver. I can't let your personal feelings impact my decision. I hereby set Mr. Ross' bail at one million which is far above what I would be setting if this was any other case. Mr. Ross, you are restrained from having any contact with Detective Goren or Detective Eames. If you are found within five hundred yards of either individual, you will be remanded without bail for the remainder of these proceedings."

The gavel sounded like a shot. Carver whirled around, biting a comment at the tip of his tongue. Goren was on his feet and Logan was standing in front of him. Logan pushed him into Deakins, and bolted after the lawyer and Ross. He caught them out in the hallway. Circling around so they had no place to escape, he put his finger in Ross' face. "This isn't a warning or a threat; merely a promise. You better lock yourself inside your home until this trial because I am instituting my own restraint boundaries. If I see you in the same borough as any detective from this squad, I'll be on you like white on rice. I'll crawl so far up your ass, you'll be singing for the Vienna Boy's Choir."

The lawyer spotted Carver trotting toward them. "Ron, would you like to be a witness to the threats your city's finest is throwing at my client?."

"Detective!" Carver frowned at him. "Please! Let's not give them any ammunition."

There was a commotion at the door, and Goren came out, with Deakins literally hanging off him. Deakins let go in exasperation, and the big man plowed down the hall until he was in front of Ross. Logan looked ready to tackle him, but Goren warned him away with a look. He stepped up to Ross who seemed too paralyzed to react. "I have only enough sanity left to not want to spend the rest of my life in prison for a pre-meditated crime, but that's all. If you provoke me, and believe me there's a long list of items that qualify, I will snap and you will pay with your life. I welcome the witnesses to this particular threat. I won't hide it. I would rather spend the next 20 years in prison than let you terrorize one more person." He turned to the lawyer. "Did you get all that? I want you to be able to remind your mentally ill client just in case he forgets to take his medication."

The man only nodded at the large man looming above him. Goren turned on his heels, and walked away. Logan took a look at his captain and trotted after him. Carver raised an eyebrow at the retreating detectives and then turned to Jimmy Ross. "I am never in favor of threatening defendants, but I have to say, Mr. Ross, that you've been warned. You have spent too much of my time making a mockery of our judicial system. My patience is gone. There will be no deals. I will prosecute to the full extent of the law. You can count on that."

The lawyer tried to respond, but Carver put up a hand and walked away from the two men.

……………………………………………………………………..

Goren sat forward in his chair watching her breathe. Already the color was returning to her cheeks. He was careful not to sit too close or else be again bewitched by her. She hadn't made any movement in the half hour since he had arrived, but he was content with that. He just needed her to breathe and rest.

An eye opened and looked at him. He braced for whatever state of lucidity she might be in. But when her eyes settled on his, she did nothing more than smile.

"Hey Eames," he said softly.

She lifted her tousled head from her pillow and tried to sit up.

"Take it easy." Bobby was on his feet, leaning over her. "You don't need to sit up."

Alex brushed him away. "Leave me alone, Bobby, I'm not an invalid."

The independent ferocity in her voice was very familiar and he backed away. She finished pulling herself up.

Returning to his chair, he looked intently at her. "How do you feel?"

She grimaced. "I feel weird, fuzzy…weak."

"You've been through a lot. It will still be a few days before you're going to feel right again."

She smirked at him. "Thanks Doctor Goren."

He shifted in his chair. "Do you have memories?"

She nodded.

"We're going to have to interview you soon."

"I'm ready when you are."

He shrugged. "Maybe we'll wait another day. You're probably still a little unclear."

"Did you bring your tape recorder?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll do it now."

Bobby was suddenly seized with anxiety. "Are you sure? Maybe it would be better if..uh, Carolyn did this with you?"

"Whatever makes you comfortable, Bobby." The intensity of the look on her face didn't waver.

"No, Alex, it has to be whatever makes you comfortable." Bobby could feel his agitation growing, and it was all he could do to stay in his chair.

"I'm not comfortable with any of this. But it has to happen, and I choose you to be the one to hear my story. I don't want to have secrets from you. Our trust in one another has always been so important to me."

Bobby nodded and dug in his pocket for is micro-recorder.

She watched him fumble about for the recorder, his notepad, and a pen. "At what point were you going to tell me that he was out on bail?"

Bobby looked up, startled.

"I overheard the nurses talking about it. They were talking about ordering in special meals in case, he hired someone to poison me."

"I don't know. I was trying to think of a way. I'm sorry."

She chewed on her lower lip. "Well, I guess, we'd better do this interview as soon as possible then so that Carver can amend the indictment."

"I won't let him near you. I promise you that."

She nodded and looked away for a moment. "Let's start, Bobby. Okay?"

He put the recorder on the bed beside her, and then pulled his chair up until his knees touched her bed. Then he turned it on. "This is Detective Robert Goren interviewing Detective Alexandra Eames. Detective, please identify yourself and tell me what you remember about being kidnapped."

Alex sighed and leaned toward the recorder. "This is Alexandra Eames, Detective First Grade, Major Case Squad, Manhattan…Okay…Bobby, remind me what the date was of my kidnapping."

"It was on January 14, 2006."

She nodded. "I remember that this was the morning that Detective Barek was attacked in her apartment. I was there, and I had became worried about how my presence might impact the safety of my colleagues and so I left."

"Where did you go?"

"Central park. I walked through the park for a few hours trying to decide if I was going to call Jimmy Ross and arrange to meet him."

"What did you decide?" Bobby kept his questions brief and crisp. It would make for a good interview that way, and it would also keep him from wandering into territory with his questions that might be needlessly painful for both of them.

"I took a cab to the pier. I realized that I couldn't call him. It was impulsive. So I called my part-- I called you instead."

"What happened then?"

"I heard a noise and then I saw a shadow. I went to investigate and that's the last I remember."

"What's your next memory?"

"I woke up in a room. I don't know how long it was after I was taken. I remember that my mouth was dry and my head hurt something awful. I had trouble focusing my thoughts. It was a bedroom, and I was tied to the bed. The ties were silk, Jimmy's idea of spoiling me I suppose."

"What do you remember next?"

"Jimmy would come in every day and sit with me. He would let me eat, and use the bathroom. Then he would talk to me about my new life." Her voice cracked and she put her head down for a moment to compose herself.

"What did he tell you?"

She rubbed her nose and looked up, blinking hard. "He prides himself on not having to 'rape' his women as he says. He was courting me, talking to me softly, trying to joke with me. He would tell me about all of the wonderful things we were going to do together once I came to understand his intentions."

Bobby winced before asking, "Was he physical with you?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "He wanted me to give in and allow him to 'have sex with him.' That was the game. So at first, he gave me space, but as days passed, and my pleasant nature didn't emerge, he got more physical. The first time he assaulted me was after 10 visits. I counted. He had become impatient and so he pushed me, but I wouldn't cooperate. We wrestled although since I was restrained, it wasn't much of a match, he started hitting me when I wouldn't be still, and I don't remember the rest."

Bobby sat there, eyes closed. "How did you know you were raped?"

"When I woke up, I had a lot of pain. I don't have any questions about what happened after he knocked me out."

"What happened with Jimmy next?"

She sighed deeply. "He was very impatient. He said that he had never had a woman be this 'savage' with him. I was the 'savage' one, Bobby. Can you believe that?"

Bobby nodded, remembering Ross say that very thing to him in interrogation.

"The next visit, he raped me again. And then he told me I had a choice. I could give in or I could die. He said he had no more time for a 'little beast like me'."

Bobby didn't realize he was on his feet until he saw her looking up at him. "I'm sorry. I'll be fine. Please. Just give me a minute." He turned to the window.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I'm an idiot. I figured it would come out anyway, and if we dealt with it together, then our…working relationship wouldn't suffer…as much. I wasn't thinking. Call Carolyn. I'll wait for her."

Still looking out the window, he shook his head. "I'm going to finish this with you. Just give me a minute."

Finally he turned around, a forced smile on his face. "You're absolutely right. We are facing this together. I'm focused. Tell me what happened after he gave you the ultimatum."

"He disappeared for another day. When he came back, he asked me again to make the choice. I told him I would rather die. He said that could be arranged, he raped me again, and that was the last I saw him."

His head jerked. "You chose death."

"In a manner of speaking I did. Of course, as a captive, I didn't really get to choose anything."

"You must have wondered if we would ever come for you." He cocked his head in her direction, his breathing sounded ragged.

"I knew you would if you could, but I…wasn't going to wait and be his…thing."

"How angry did you get with me…with all of us? It was weeks, and no one came for you."

"Knock it off, Bobby. I was tired, malnourished, drugged, dehydrated. I didn't have room for anger, it was too much energy. And I never doubted you were looking."

"We didn't stop…ever, but it didn't matter because we…couldn't find you." He was no longer able to make eye contact.

"I wasn't afraid forever, Bobby. I really wasn't. Most of the time, I was too drugged and exhausted. I stopped caring."

He threw his hands up into the air. "This is supposed to make me feel better?"

She leaned over to protest, but her elbow didn't support her weight and she tumbled off the bed on top of him. He grabbed her and pulled her to him. "Are you okay?"

She breathed hard against his neck. "Not even close, Goren. Not even close."

"Here, let me get you back in bed." He all but launched her back onto the mattress.

She lay sprawled there for a moment, and looked up at him. "I really thought you'd be different. I thought you'd see who I still am, and everything would be okay again. I am still who I always was. I'm not that different."

"I didn't say—"

"Let's just finish, okay. We were at the point where I was telling you that I had stopped caring, and you assumed that I was speaking to your failure to find me, and I'm telling you that it wasn't anything that dramatic. I was just done…is all. It happens."

Bobby ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm the shaking in them. "This was a test, Alex. This…interview, doing it now…so spontaneous. This was a test. You wanted to see how I would handle this, didn't you?"

"No," she shook her head. "I just want someone to see me as Alex Eames, not as a poor kidnap, rape victim. I thought you would be that person."

"It looks like I failed you again."

She lay on her back and looked up at the ceiling. "When I fell on top of you, I could feel it. Touching me was too much for you. You're disgusted or you feel pity. Part of me understands, but—"

He was on his feet. "No, Eames, you don't understand. I do not feel those feelings. That is not what I am feeling!"

She pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and turned away from him silently.

He stopped and made a face. He walked around to where she was facing and knelt in front of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't need to get so loud. It…it startled you a little, didn't it? Jimmy got loud the last few times. He started yelling, and you couldn't do anything because you were tied up, but it's okay because he's not here and you're free. I'm…not myself. You're right. I feel guilty…angry. I don't understand how we didn't find you earlier…I thought about you every minute of every day, but it wasn't enough and I didn't get it right in time."

She breathed into the blanket slowly, and watched him. "In time for what? I'm alive, Bobby. I'm safe. You found me."

Bobby ignored her question. "I just want everything to be as it was. It's so complicated. I want us to be what we were."

Her forehead creased. "That ship has sailed. I will be fine, I will be me, but I will not be the same. I need you to be able to deal with that."

"But I don't want it to change this."

She frowned more deeply. "I don't understand. Do you not want to work with me? I'll need time, but I won't lose my nerve. I promise you that."

He ran a hand across his face. "I don't know what I'm saying, Alex, but I know that I want to work with you. You'll always be my partner. I don't want that to change."

She nodded into the blanket. "You were right, Bobby. It may have been too early to do the interview. I'm exhausted. Do you think you have enough to get to Carter?"

"Yeah, I do."

She forced a smile. "I should probably sleep."

"We have guards on the door and cars on Jimmy. I am going to come back just as soon as I get this to Carver."

She closed her eyes. "I think it would be better if my mom came back. It's…just better for right now. You still need your rest, and I need to get stronger."

He closed his eyes. "Alex, I'm a mess right now. I see that, but please don't misinterpret what I feel. It's gotten complicated, that's all. I need…to feel less anger, less guilt, less…everything."

"Its okay, Bobby. Go home. We'll talk tomorrow."

She reached out to touch his hand, but he jerked it away quickly.

"You need to sleep. I'm sorry for everything. I'll come by later. I'll just check with your mom and let you rest." His words jumped about like stray bullets as he got up and backed out of the room. When the door closed behind him, her face screwed up and she spit out all of the anguish she had trapped inside.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Logan camped out in the lobby of Jimmy Ross' co-op. A heated discussion with Reynaldo resulted in him dragging out a comfortable chair for the detective and turning the TV such that Logan could see the game. Reynaldo did some grumbling about how this would look to the other tenants, but Logan told him to go screw himself. He put his feet up on a glass table and settled back into the chair. Everyone once in a while, he would throw a barb in the doorman's direction.

"I'm pulling your sheet, Reynaldo. No, no, don't deny it. I know you gotta sheet. I can see it in your eyes. You and I are going to get real close. See I'm operating with a theory here that all doormen know something they should have told police at some point. It's natural. You see things. But you sit there as innocent as a lamb like there would be no reason in the world for me to jbe erking your chain. I know you know something. But what you don't seem to understand is that you don't win by holding it in. Jimmy's going down. It's a fact. I'm waiting for the paperwork that says I can walk up there and arrest his ass for kidnapping, rape, and attempted murder. In a few hours, Jimmy's only going to be a memory. All those nice Christmas gifts; you've seen the last of that. Now it's about your soul. You really want to sit there every night knowing what you know, and knowing that I know that you know something?"

Reynaldo's face screwed up as he worked to decipher it all.

Logan rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You'll come clean to me, but take your time. I'm sort of enjoying myself here. In fact, I really enjoy the Rangers…even more than the Nicks. Why don't we switch over to hockey? You not a hockey fan? Too bad. The league could use some Hispanics. Do you want to change the channel or should I?"

……………………………………………………………………………..

Bobby felt pressure on his chest and let his eyes flicker open. She was there laying on his chest, staring into his soul. He jerked back, "Alex, please. I need space."

She only smiled. "Push me off like you did earlier today."

"I didn't mean anything by that. It was complicated."

She opened her mouth and licked his left nipple. Bobby felt ready to explode. She teased him. "Make me go away. Push me away."

"I don't want to hurt you. Alex. Please! I can't do that to you; not after all this."

"I'm stronger than you think." Her eyes gleamed like a cat's.

"Why are you doing this? Don't you understand that it will destroy both of us?"

She encircled this same nipple with her teeth and nipped it, sending sensation through him. "I told you I didn't care. I'm ready to be destroyed. Remember?"

"No," he shook his head violently. "You said that to Jimmy not me. That's over. You're not backed into a corner anymore. You're going to be okay. We can make this work. We can make everything be normal again."

She planted her hands on either side of his torso and raised herself up. "Okay, let's do that. Let's go back to the way it was."

His body screamed for her attention as her skin lifted away from his. She could see his struggle and a grin grew on her face. She started to roll away from him when he grabbed her around the waist, rolling over until he was on top of her. He breathed hard as he regarded her small frame. "I can't get you out of my system. God knows I want to."

"Then get it over with. Do what you've always wanted to do. Maybe then you'll get it out of your system." She lay beneath, raising her hands to rest on his chest.

Bobby finally stopped struggling with his emotions. He reached for her mouth, lowering himself onto her, pulling her body tightly into his.

Bobby's head jerked forward and he almost toppled over. He found himself in a chair in the waiting room, only feet away from her door. His overcoat as blanket had slid onto the floor. He looked around, terrified that someone had seen him in this state. The policeman on the door was walking the other end of the hallway. The clock said 3 a.m., and the hallway was deserted. He leaned forward, dropping his face into his hands.

………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

13

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Dick Wolf, Rene Balcer, and NBC, inc.

A/N: I am in some turmoil about this chapter. I have been hormonal all week, and I had a hard time restraining myself from the angst that I love and hate so much. It feels like I'm 'jumping the shark' here, but I've sat with it for three days and can't get anywhere else with it. Please tell me what you think if you are so inclined. I have received nice reviews, and am very grateful to the people who have been supporting this effort.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 11**

Carver delivered the warrant at 4:30 in the morning to Logan who watching an old John Wayne movie, an empty pizza box beside him on a table. The doorman with him looked very unhappy. Logan snatched it up with a smile, and signaled to a group of uniforms Carver had brought along.

He wasted no time at the door, giving it one loud bang and yelling "Police!" When he got no response, he gestured at a young cop and the kid went at it with all he had. Logan shook his head, remembering the days when he was still young enough to treat his body like a battering ram.

The door opened and Logan moved ahead of all of them, holding his gun in both hands, moving stealthily against the wall. They headed for Jimmy's bedroom first and found the bed messed but no occupant. He swung for the kitchen and the living room, but again, there was nobody. Logan began a string of curses under his breath as he imagined another full scale Jimmy Ross search where he would ultimately spend more nights sprawled on couches and chairs getting a few minutes of sleep here and there.

He kicked in the bathroom door. Everything was quiet, but there was something about the shower curtain that made him smile. He went over and threw it back. There he lay huddled in the bottom of the shower, looking up at Logan with a look of terror on his thin features. Logan threw back his head and laughed. "Hey people! Get in here. You gotta get a look at this. Can you believe that this little piece of shit is responsible for three attempted murders on detectives? He's like a little baby lamb! Hey, anybody got a camera? I got to get pictures of this."

………………………………………………………………………

Bobby snapped his cell phone shut, launched himself to his feet, and moved to her door, rubbing the sleep furiously out of his eyes. He opened it slowly, and found the woman in her bed to be a good 25 years older than he would have anticipated. Alex was seated at the window looking out on the city, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Her head turned and she gestured for him to come over. He walked as quietly as he could past her mother snoring gently on her bed.

Speaking in hushed tones, he took a chair next to her. "Logan arrested him an hour ago. Our little psychotic was in the fetal position hiding in the shower."

She turned back to the window and grinned.

"You're looking good today."

"I'm going home."

He frowned. "Are you sure about that?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I am. It's time."

"I am so sorry about yesterday. I was taken by surprise, I think."

She put a hand up. "We both were. I didn't realize what I was expecting of you."

"I feel like I was a little boy who was fretting because he wanted to keep things the way they had always been."

She shook her head. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"No, Alex, listen." He leaned forward and surprised them both by taking her hands in his. "I was lost when you were gone, really lost."

"That's perfectly natural," she said.

"Not really, Alex. I don't have ties to people with the exception of my mother and Lewis and…you. I didn't realize how much I had come to depend on you until you were gone." He released one of her hands and patted his chest. "There was a hole here that I had never felt before…ever; not even when I lost my dad. It was…frightening and overwhelming."

She cocked her head, her forehead wrinkling as it so often did.

"You're back now and safe, and I'm trying like everything to temper those feelings. I don't want you to go back to normal. I want me to go back to normal."

"I don't understand exactly what you're saying."

He let out a breath. "Alex, there is only about a 2 chance this is going to come out right."

"Come on, big guy. Give it a shot."

"I guess I'm a little over…uh, attached…or obsessed with you right now."

She blinked and sat back. "Uh, Bobby, I don't know what to—"

"No, no, no. Please give me a little space to find the right words."

She looked at him warily.

"You're electric to me right now. Every time I see you, I feel such intensity of emotion—"

"Like relief, right?"

"Yes, and anger at myself and guilt and…more, much more."

Her eyes widened. "Bobby, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Her mother stirred on the bed, and they both froze until she settled back into her breathing again.

He grabbed both of her hands tightly and hissed. "No! I'm not…I mean, the truth is that I am…or better yet, I'm infatuated with you. It happened when I found you and before when you were missing, there was a realization...I don't know…I guess I never really understood how much you meant to me. Finding you was such a moment of profound blessing, and I never wanted to let you go and everything about you felt so perfect and…"

"You're in love with me."

His eyes searched the walls behind her. "Yes, of course, I love you. You're very important to me."

She shook her head. "Come on, Bobby. You're in love with me."

He sank back into his chair letting go of her hands and placing them on his head. "With each passing minute, I dig a deeper hole for myself. I can't seem to get a handle on this."

"Bobby, I'm teasing. It's okay. In fact, it's probably the first thing I have understood coming out of your mouth since you found me. It's a much better explanation than what I was thinking about you before."

He frowned deeply. "Your reaction here is confusing me."

She leaned toward him. "Bobby, I know what you're feeling. I feel it too. The big, strong Bobby Goren coming to my rescue: devoted, sensitive, handsome. Of course, I feel those things, I've felt them before, but I know not to trust them. I know that you and I will look back on this 6 months—no, 3 months from now, and be happy that we kept our cool. We're vulnerable, more vulnerable than we have ever been with each other. It was bound to happen. We just have to wait for the dust to clear and we'll be fine."

"You're very certain of this?"

"God gave me a lot of pragmatism. It comes in handy every now and again. Now go home, take a shower, and get some real sleep. I'll call you when I get home just to let you know I'm okay." She smiled and pulled the blanket around her again.

"Latinka's funeral is tomorrow. Are you going?" Bobby asked when he got to the door.

"Of course."

"Let me take you."

"Really? You're not afraid of my animal magnetism."

He grinned. "It's out on the table. I think the two of us can handle it now. Plus, I want to be there with you, for you."

She shrugged. "Okay. We're taking my mother, you know?"

"It would be my pleasure," he said as he backed out of the room.

She smiled until the door closed behind him and then she turned her attention back to the window, the sun rising in the morning sky. She heard some rustling behind her and then a voice, "Do you actually believe your own lies, Alexandra?"

Alex took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Go back to sleep, Mom. Please."

………………………………………………………………

Eames let him drive. In spite of everything, it was still a surprise. The few times she had driven with him in the past, she had taken to gripping the dashboard and hissing expletives under her breath. Goren was a man too deeply distracted by the thoughts in his head to be a good driver. He took a couple of curbs at corners before she had absolutely had enough, and had declared a moratorium on his ever touching a steering wheel again.

Alex sat in the back alone. She insisted, pushing her mother bodily into the front passenger seat. She mumbled something to her mother about keeping Bobby focused before shutting the door on her. Mary Eames took an opportunity when she saw one. She was a retired English teacher, and soon had Bobby interested in her interpretations of Thoreau's _Walden Pond_ and Whitman's _Leaves of Grass. _Alex welcomed the respite, and was barely conscious of the passages they were reciting to one another from memory.

A strangeness had settled in her gut. She was traveling through country where she had spent a total of six weeks, and yet she had no memories other than the terror that was Jimmy Ross. He had probably driven her up this very highway when he first captured her, but she would never have a memory of it. She tried hard to dredge up memories of Latinka Pomoravlje other than the time she met her at the diner as Lisa Polacek, but she couldn't make out much more than vague images of a woman talking to her, telling her she was going to help her. Even then, Alex wasn't sure which images were Latinka and which were her mother, Magda. Once Jimmy had given up on her, the drugs he had administered became too strong for lucid thoughts.

Latinka had probably been only a couple years younger than Alex. She remembered how thin and tired she had looked at the diner when they had first met, and how surprised she had been to find out that Latinka was younger. Consciously or unconsciously, this worn young woman had traded her life for Alex, and the enormity of such a gift felt overwhelming to her.

Something akin to panic rose up in her as Bobby eased the SUV into the parking lot of an old Catholic church. Alex tensed as she warred with the feelings inside her. Bobby opened the door for her, but she could barely look in his direction as she got out. Her mother came around, and held her hand. Alex looked up to find a large crowd of people milling about on the church steps. She found this surprising because Magda had told Carolyn that she and Latinka had almost no family or acquaintances.

As they grew closer, she began to recognize people. There were detectives, most of whom were from the Major Case squad. Then kids starting running in her direction, and the Eames clan emerged out of the crowd; all of them. She looked at her mother in confusion. Mary Eames leaned over and whispered in her ear, "They may not have known Latinka, but they are all grateful to her for your life. It's fitting that they honor her."

Alex wanted nothing more than to turn around and head back to the SUV. She would take the keys from Bobby and go away somewhere she could sit alone and have the privacy of her emotions. Bobby seemed to sense her anxiety and he wrapped an arm protectively across her shoulders saying softly, "Magda's at the top of the steps."

Alex nodded as this was the only communication left in her arsenal. She had eyes for no one as she climbed the steps, and her family and friends gave her space they sensed she needed. The tiny woman at the top looked more wizened than what Alex remembered, and for a moment, she wondered if this was a trick, but when the woman reached out for Alex, it was the same warm smell, and Alex allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace. Magda sobbed into her shoulder and Alex squeezed her eyes shut, memories of fear and confusion a cacophony on her soul.

Carolyn appeared behind Magda and gently put her hands on her shoulders. Barek was in all black with beautiful black lace on her head, reminding Alex of all things old and European.

With tears in her eyes, Mary Eames stepped in and introduced herself to Magda. She began talking to Magda in hushed tones, and soon they were in an embrace that only the mothers of daughters could understand. Mary wrapped her arm around her waist, and together the two mothers followed Carolyn into the church.

Alex stood as still as a statue, looking at nothing. She felt everything as if she was tied up again, alone in a room, waiting for her attacker. She choked on the only cry of help she knew, "Bobby."

He was there, arms around her protectively. "You need some place quiet." Without another word, he ushered her into the church. It was ornate and dark, the visage of St. Constantine staring at them as they entered. He found stairs and led her up to a small balcony, holding nothing but pews and an impossibly old organ. He found a pew in the corner and sat her down. "Is it too much for you to be here?"

"I have to be here," she said, fighting the emotions rising in her throat. "It's just that I can feel everything."

"There's a time for that and there's a time. No one wants you to suffer. We'd understand. Magda would understand."

"I can't remember her face. I never knew who was helping me." Words came out staccato as she lost her battle with emotion.

"Its enough that you know now." He stood up and lifted her to her feet. "Come on."

At the bottom of the stairs stood Johnny Eames. Bobby nodded and said, "She needs some fresh air. I'm going to take her for a drive."

Alex saw her father through her tears. "I'm sorry, Dad."

He smiled at her. "Baby, why do you think we're here? We're your representatives. We got this covered. We know what that woman did for you. We'll take good care of her. You just go."

He drove and she sobbed. At first, she protested such an arrangement, telling him that he shouldn't have to see her like that. She told him to drop her off at a motel, and come back for her in a few hours. He shook his head and kept driving. "Not a chance, Eames. This is something I get to do for you. Cry all you want. Hell, I like crying. I'll probably be disappointed when you stop."

She choked on a laugh, and leaned back in her seat letting the tears fall as they were intended. She let him drive and she cried, her face pressed into the passenger's side window. Bobby didn't say a word. He just drove the highways of upstate New York. Eventually, her breathing calmed and her eyes grew heavy against the glass.

……………………………………………………………………………

It was dark when she woke, and they were still driving. She shifted and Bobby looked over at her and smiled. She sat up, and noted the signs going by. "Bobby, do you know where you're going?"

"Believe it or not, I do."

She squinted as they passed a mileage sign. "We couldn't possibly be in Massachusetts, could we? I mean, you are reading the signs."

"Yeah, we're in Massachusetts."

She leaned forward and started searching the glove box for a map. "Okay, let me get a map. I'll get us turned around in just a minute."

He chuckled. "It's okay. I know where I'm going. There's a fantastic Italian restaurant right outside Hyannis Port. We have reservations."

"Are you crazy? Bobby, this is hours out of our way."

"I know."

"What is going on?"

He shrugged. "You were sleeping and I was driving. And I got to thinking about this great place on the Cape where the view is spectacular and the food is amazing, and I hadn't been there for years. And I figured that after all we've been through, it would be nice to really treat ourselves."

"So we're off to Cape Cod?" She was leaning sideways, staring at him.

"Well, just for the night. I thought we'd have a nice meal, get some rest, and then tomorrow, I'll show you the sights before we head back."

She rubbed at her sleep filled eyes. "Bobby, we just had a conversation yesterday that would indicate that all of this…extra-curricular activity is not recommended."

"I know, but when I was thinking about this, the pragmatist was sleeping, leaving the idealist alone to his own devices. And I decided that we needed some special, and I wanted to do this for you. And as for our conversation of yesterday, we're big kids now and we know what we're doing. I would never take advantage. This is about rest and relaxation and rejuvenation; nothing more."

She screwed up her face. "Cape Cod? I didn't know…I didn't think you were…"

He shrugged. "In college, I flirted with pretension. Was on the rowing team. Dated girls with pedigrees. Tried to fit in with people who had too much money. It got boring. I do remember the beauty of the Cape though; figured you'd enjoy it."

She looked down at herself. "All I have for this is a funeral dress and a puffy face."

"You look fine to me. Besides these places are used to a slightly dour look in its patrons."

She dropped her head back onto the seat. "People are going to wonder what happened to us."

He glanced at her. "I may be an idealist, but I'm not stupid. I called Deakins and your mother. Everything is fine. In fact, your mother thought this was a wonderful idea."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll bet she did."

…………………………………………………………………………

Alex disappeared into one room, and then emerged with a frown on her face. She spotted another room and headed for it. When she came out, she put her hands on her hips, "Bobby, this place is expensive!"

"Out here, they all are."

"You got a suite, two bedrooms and a living room. I don't have my credit card with me, but we gotta share the cost on this. It's got to be $600 a night here."

He smiled. "Just calm down, Eames. Everything's taken care of. I got a discount. Promise."

She looked around the room once more and squeezed her eyes shut. "All right. I have to stop fussing, and just enjoy myself."

"That's the Eames I know." He took his jacket off and wrestled with his tie while settling into one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room. "I'm stuffed. I'm going to be thinking about that linguine with red clam sauce for some time to come."

She found a chair and curled up. She had shed her jacket and jewelry, and all that was left was a simple black shift and a face scrubbed clean of make-up. She looked like she was about 12 years old. "It was a nice dinner, Bobby. I really liked it."

He leaned forward. "Well, we could watch a movie. What do you want to do?"

She shrugged. "I'm tired and I'm the one who slept all afternoon. You must be exhausted. How about the entertainment for this evening be that we both get more sleep than either of us has had in months."

He sighed. "That's a good plan, Eames. I'm definitely in favor." He got up and headed for a bedroom. At the door, he turned. "If you need anything, just call. Okay?"

"Yeah, Goren, I'll let you know, but I got to tell you, there's not much mystery to sleeping. I'm pretty sure I'll be just fine."

………………………………………………………………………………

It wasn't clear what time it was when he heard the screaming. In nothing but his boxers, he was out of bed and through the living room to the other bedroom. Alex was sitting upright in the bed, arms around her waist and shaking. She grimaced at him. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry. I had a nightmare and woke up, but I didn't remember where I was. I got startled is all."

He sat down on the bed beside her and put a hand on her quivering arm. "Let me help."

She snorted. "Come on, Bobby. There's not much you can do. Sitting there like you are; we've crossed about nine layers of boundaries here."

"I'm not leaving."

"And I'm not about to be the victim of your misplaced angst."

Bobby stood up, the hurt evident on his face.

She shook her head. "You don't know what you want. I can't deal with that. I'm different. I know what I want. I know what I feel."

He cocked his head. "I'm just trying to help."

"Bobby, you should see yourself. Your head moves to the right when you talk about this. Same thing happened when we had that conversation in my hospital room. You taught me what that meant. You're accessing your right brain; you're lying or at least not telling me what you really think. You still don't know what it is you're trying to say to me."

He moved to a chair across from her bed and sat down, his hands folded in front of him. The first couple of times he started to speak, he abruptly stopped and shook his head. Finally he looked up. "You were eight months pregnant and crabby. One day you were sitting across from me, and the baby started to kick. I had learned not to be alarmed every time you gasped so I tried to focus on my paperwork. Then you said, "Goren, get over here." And I thought, "Oh, hell, what now." So I get to you and you say, "Want to feel him kick?" You didn't even wait for a response. You just took my hand and planted it on that impossibly round belly of yours, and I know I wasn't going anywhere 'cause you had your hand over mine, guiding it to the right spot. Lewis told me his sister always used to do that when she was pregnant, and how he never really felt anything, but he would always say that he did so she wouldn't be disappointed. That's what was happening for me 'cause I didn't think I was feeling a thing, and I was about tell you I felt it anyway when the little guy gave me a nice solid kick. A feeling went through me like nothing I can describe, and it wasn't just about the baby. I had this rush of emotion, wishing this baby was mine; wishing you were mine. You want to tell me that this was born out of the moment, but the truth is that it never went away. I hated when you were gone on maternity leave. And when you were taken…well, I've already tried to express what that felt like. Alex, I haven't lied to you. Not really. The only thing I haven't really expressed is that this is not born of circumstance and this is not going away. I have contented myself with what we have had for a long time, but a sense of urgency or something has kicked in. Life is precious and fragile and fleeting, and I don't feel like pretending anymore."

He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. "Alex, I know this is awkward, but I'm trying. I really am. I don't want to ruin anything. I just want you in my life."

She sat there for a long time silent, her eyes focused on the hands in her lap.

Bobby got up. "I'm glad I said it. Really I am. It's taken me so long to even know what it was that was happening inside me. I'll let you sleep. If you have another dream, and you need to talk, just let me know."

Bobby climbed into his own bed and leaned back into the cool linen sheets. In spite of everything, he did feel better. It was as much a confession to himself as it was for her. It was relief to finally articulate the energy that had been living in him for so long.

A shadow darkened his doorway and he looked up. She stood there in a tourist t-shirt she had picked up at the front desk. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He sat up in bed.

"I want to say something." She didn't move from her spot at the door. "You make it a lot of work to be the pragmatist in this relationship."

He nodded.

"I don't know what I can give you. I'm not ready for much, Bobby."

"I understand that," he said softly.

"You'd have to be really patient, and even then I can't say anything for certain."

Bobby felt his heart skip a beat.

She looked down at the floor. "It's not much of a bargain."

"I don't know. I think it sounds pretty good"

"You know what I'd like more than anything else right now?"

"Tell me."

"I want to sleep and feel safe all at the same time. I would…like to be near you tonight when I sleep. I…just think it would help." Her hair fell into her eyes when she looked at him.

He nodded. "Come here, Eames."

She hesitated for a moment as if firming her resolve, and then she headed toward him. He opened the blankets and let her slide in. She lay facing him. "Is this the right thing for us?"

He turned on his side facing her. "I don't know, Alex. I really don't know."

"Well, I guess we're about to find out."

"Slide over here," he ordered. He put his hand around her waist and pulled her back into him. His mouth on her ear, he whispered, "Do you want a bedtime story before you go to sleep?"

He could the skin pull from her grin. "You were reciting Walt Whitman with my mother.

"Okay. I don't remember all of it word for word, but let me share my favorite passage with you…"And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores, I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me, For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Say that again to me and again and again and again."

…………………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

12

A/N: Thanks for being patient. I have quite a bit of story left to tell here. I really appreciate the comments people sent me. Some of the critical stuff was really helpful, and the positive stuff feeds and inspires me. There are plot points yet to come. I hope you will continue to stay with me.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 12**

It was sleep, only sleep, but it was good. It was nice to be in the midst of his strong arms and legs; even his snoring was a comfort. She didn't know what the morning would bring them, but she couldn't muster up any regret, and she imagined that this was a good thing.

For a long time after she woke, she just lay, feeling his breath warm her neck; one big arm encircling her waist. He was a complicated man and this would be a complicated journey with no guarantees. But Alex could separate better than most, and she found herself content to live in the moment.

He stirred behind her. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah."

"Did you sleep well?"

"I did, Bobby. Thank you. I did."

His head lifted and he looked down at her. "Are we okay?"

She looked up into his blurry, unshaven face; his curly salt and pepper hair flattened on one side of his head and smiled. "We're okay."

He nodded. "Good."

He hovered for a moment and she wondered if she was about to be kissed by the man she had worked with for the last five years, but his head jerked a little and then he moved away. She rolled around so that she was facing him. "We stay honest about everything. Understand? If we hold anything in, we're going to be lost."

He regarded her for a moment, and then a smile grew on his face. "It's a deal, Eames."

He reached out and stroked her cheek, sending shivers through her. She was about to reach for his face when he sat up. "It's a beautiful day. What do you say we take a little stroll down to the lighthouse before we head back?"

She propped herself up on an elbow watching him gather up his clothes. "I'm driving home."

He looked up. "Ah, come on. I did good yesterday. Gimme a break."

She shook her head. "I'm ready to drive, Bobby."

He sat next to her on the bed, taking in the full import of her statement. "I'm glad to hear it, but take it slow, okay?"

"I feel good. I can't remember the last time I felt good." She fell back in the bed and smiled up at him. It would have been easy to let emotion take over, but he was careful with her and she appreciated it. He shook his head as if to release himself from the moment. Then he stood up and pulled his shirt over his head, and said something about going down to the desk in search of a couple of toothbrushes and toothpaste. She watched him leave and felt something in her stomach she hadn't felt since Eddy O'Reilly asked her to the prom her junior year of high school.

……………………………………………………………

"I don't understand why he has to be here. They have guards here," whined Jimmy Ross pacing back and forth. Detective Logan had been there to escort him in for his meeting with Skoda, and Jimmy knew he was waiting for him to come out.

Skoda sighed. "He's got a special interest in you, Jimmy. He just wants to make sure that everything is well handled."

He gestured as best he could with his hands manacled in front of him. "I don't even know Detective Logan. I'm not accused of doing anything to him. This is none of his business."

"Jimmy, this is part of the disconnect we talked about earlier. Logan cares about people you have hurt; therefore he is impacted by your actions. This is personal to him. Your actions translate beyond the impact they have in your own life. Logan's reaction is common for a socialized human being."

"I want a restraining order."

Skoda smiled. "No can do, Jimmy. Its part of what you give up when you break the law and end up in jail. Now sit down please. Detective Logan is going to be outside this room the whole time. He's not coming in unless you have trouble with behavior."

Jimmy slumped into a chair. "There is no respect for mental illness in the legal system. We're thrown in with regular criminals and treated as if we were in full control of our faculties."

"Actually, I believe that very few people end up in that situation. You can be mentally ill and bad at the same time. There are very few people that actually don't know that their actions were injurious to others."

He scraped his manacled hands onto the table and folded them together. "I would have expected better from you, Dr. Skoda."

He chuckled. "I'm not your therapist. I'm just here to assess your competence for trial."

"It will be a kangaroo court. She has a distinctly unfair advantage. And she manipulates. Everyone thinks she's a good cop, but she strung me along."

"You aware that forensics came back. They found your DNA on the nightgown she wore, your prints all over the room where she was held, and we have her eyewitness testimony. It doesn't look good, Jimmy."

He leaned forward. "Do you want to know what really happened?"

Skoda cocked his head. "More than anything else, Jimmy."

He tapped his finger on the tabletop. "I am a victim here. She's been gaslighting me."

Skoda felt something odd settle in his gut. "Start from the beginning."

"I met her through Ronald Wick. He was also mentally ill. We'd met online through a support group. Ronald was having trouble. He was stalking his girlfriend. She disappeared and then turned up dead. I had no reason to believe Ronald would do something like that so I stuck by him, I even offered to watch his daughter while he was being questioned by Detective Goren and Eames."

Skoda settled back, his hands folded in his lap. He could tell it was going to be a long story.

"Detective Eames showed up when Ronald was there. It was frightening. He pulled a gun on her and she on him. I was forced to sit on the couch, and watch the entire thing unfold. Detective Eames was fearless. She took him on and she won. But the trauma…something changed for me. It was my first psychotic break. I wasn't the same. I began to obsess about her. I couldn't forget her bravery. I started to follow her. It was stalking. I admit it. At first, she told me it was inappropriate to see me, but then she allowed it. It was very confusing for me. I took her some place expensive for dinner, but she wasn't interested in me. She talked about her partner. I now believe that she had dinner with me in order to make Detective Goren jealous. I left bewildered. My obsession with her hadn't changed, but I didn't realize that she wanted to use me. I sent her flowers, candy, and I went to her home. She didn't seem frightened. Instead of dealing with the situation legally as any normal person might, she sent her partner, Detective Goren. I think this speaks for itself. She wanted Detective goren to intervene on her behalf. She wanted his attention. I understand now that what happened at my home was another psychotic break. Detective Goren was in the same room three months after my first trauma, and he had a gun. It was Ronald Wick all over again. I believed he was threatening me when he asked me to stop seeing his partner. I panicked. I thought he would do me harm. I was delusional. I attacked him."

Skoda sighed. "Jimmy, I am not asking you to prepare your defense for me. I don't care about all this."

Jimmy jerked in frustration. "They were using me, Dr. Skoda. She wasn't afraid of me. She was using me. Ask yourself why she left police protection. Ask yourself how I was supposedly able to find her at the pier. Ask yourself how I was able to so easily overpower her and take her hostage."

"I'm not investigating your crimes, just your psyche. Did you know it was wrong to take Detective Eames? Did you understand your actions?"

"It wasn't that simple. I was simply defending myself. She played a game, she triggered my illness, and I was unable to control the consequences."

"Nobody's going to believe that Detective Eames was a willing participant in her own kidnapping and rape."

He slammed his handcuffs on the table. "It was too late by then. I was not of this reality. She had pushed me too far. Her games had sent me over the edge."

"I don't believe that you can prove that Detective Eames…tricked you."

"And I don't believe that you can prove that she didn't, and that's all I need."

"Jimmy, your thinking is too organized. This is not helping your defense."

"I'm not trying to be a diagnosis for you. I want you to know the truth."

Skoda chuckled. "I like you, Jimmy. You make my job fun."

"This is my life, Dr. Skoda."

"Which is why I'm surprised you feel the need to treat it like a bad novel. No one is going to believe this nonsense."

Jimmy glared at him. "I have money. I have prestige. And my friends have not abandoned me. You would be surprised who's buying my so-called nonsense."

He raised his eyebrows. "What are you saying there?"

"Read the Post tomorrow, Dr. Skoda. Then tell me who pays attention to what."

"You're kidding? Your lawyer isn't going to let you do this."

"Think again. Besides, it's too late to stop it."

………………………………………………………………….

This time she let him sleep and she was happy for it as she drove the coastal highway back to New York City. She needed to be alone with her thoughts. It had been a nice day. The two of them had brunch, and then a stroll down to the lighthouse. It was cold and she had nothing but a coat and her thin dress. The wind blew through her bare legs, but she didn't say anything. She was intrigued with his enthusiasm. He wanted to show her places he had spent time as a young man. He took her out past the lighthouse and the icy wind whipped fiercely at them. He stood behind her pointing toward an island that he had sailed to one summer in college. She had trouble seeing it, and so he leaned over her shoulder and tried to help her find it. It was then in his proximity to her that he realized she was shivering. Instinctively, he put his arms around her and held her against his body. It felt good to have his body against hers and a lot less awkward than she had ever imagined. She leaned into him, and let him walk her back to the car, his arm holding her tightly to his side.

She wasn't confident about any of this. Everything logical in her said that this was a risky proposition at best. They were both vulnerable, feeling things that could possibly fade as time made them stronger. They were also risking the delicate balance they had built over the years. Yet Alex realized that the die was cast; there was no way to walk away from their feelings at this point.

She looked over at him sleeping, his head wedged between the backrest and the window. He looked sweet like this, and she was reminded of the truly gentle man he could be. She smiled as she realized that, in many ways, she felt as protective toward him as he did toward her. Jimmy was in jail. The forensics were good. They had her eyewitness testimony. She hoped this would be a time when the two of them could concentrate on something other than the drama of Jimmy Ross.

He groaned and shifted in his seat, an arm stretched out and his hand landed on the emergency brake between them. She dropped her hand lightly onto his forearm and let it rest there. Under her breath, she whispered, "Let's be careful, Bobby. Losing you would be tragedy on a scale of which I surely would not recover."

Bobby felt the pressure on his arm and heard her softly whispered words. He kept his eyes closed, and quietly thought to himself, "I would never to that, Eames. I promise you."

………………………………………………………………………………………

"Logan, this is not helping. Calm down for a moment."

The guard let Jimmy scoot behind him.

Logan ignored Skoda. "So Jimmy, I hear you told a story to the tabloids. Those weasels have been calling me all afternoon. You think I'm going to let you get away with that? Think again, Jimmy."

The guard shifted before Logan. "Come on, Detective. They don't like it when I don't bring the prisoners back alive."

Logan lunged at Ross who crouched in a corner of the room. "Come here, Jimmy. I just want to talk with you for a few minutes."

"Logan!" Skoda roared. "Let go of him!"

The door behind him opened and Carolyn Barek walked into the room. Skoda pointed at Logan and yelled, "Stop him!"

Barek waded in past the guard and grabbed Logna's arm. In a low voice, she snapped, "Let go of him now. We don't have time for this nonsense!"

He jerked his arm away, but stopped, breathing hard over Jimmy Ross curled up on the floor. "He doesn't stop hurting people. He never stops."

"And this is a surprise for you." Barek frowned at him and pushed him aside, standing over Ross. She knelt down. "Hi Jimmy. Remember me? Remember when I was laying down, terrified. Now its you lying there, and I have the power. What does that feel like, Jimmy?"

He refused to meet her eye. Skoda stepped up and motioned for Logan to back away. Barek poked Jimmy with her shoe and he yelped. A slow smile spread across her face. "This is a good education for you. It's a powerful thing to do to another person. It makes you wonder what gives one person the right to hurt another."

He inched away from her. Barek sighed and let him slink away. She leaned back on her heels and stood up. "He'll never really understand."

Skoda shook his head. "He's probably not wired to understand empathy."

Logan growled, "I'd be happy to rewire him."

Barek gave him a long suffering look. "You know, acting like a Mafia goon is not your best quality."

"Yeah, but it's my most satisfying one."

Skoda snorted and nodded to the guard, "Get him out of here."

The guard didn't hesitate. He pulled Ross to his feet and pushed him toward the door. Logan turned to Skoda, "Those tabloids will print anything. You know that. He can still hurt her."

Barek shook her head. "She's too strong for him, Mike. I put my money on Alex any day of the week."

Logan threw his arms up. "So we're not going to do anything?"

"There's not much we can do," Skoda said. "Look. I know bulldozing is your one solution to all problems, but I think this situation requires a little more reflection."

"Skoda's right, Mike. We need to think about this."

Logan gave a gasp of exasperation. "Thinking's overrated, People. Let's get out of here." Without waiting for any acknowledgement, he headed out the door.

………………………………………………………………………………….

"I could come back just to see that you're all right."

She shook her head. "Space is good. We both have a lot to think about."

He nodded. "Okay. What do we do now?"

"Um, I go up to my apartment, and you go into at work, and we'll talk later." She readjusted the seat for him before getting out of the SUV. Outside, she took a few steps and then stopped. She turned around and headed back to the car. Bobby opened the door for her. She grabbed his arm. Bobby, you mean so much to me." She couldn't seem to say anything more and just stood there.

He cupped her chin. "I always find truth in your eyes, Alex. I always find goodness and compassion and courage. I'm just happy to be part of that with you."

She smiled, warmed by his hand on her face. "You're such a dork, Goren. You know that, don't you?"

He chuckled and watched as she slipped away and trotted into the entrance to her building.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

Bobby found them all at Flanagan's ignoring the pitcher of beer in front of them. Logan looked up and waved him over. Deakins signaled for another mug. Bobby sat down between Barek and Skoda. Carver had a newspaper in his hand. When Bobby sat down, Carver pushed it toward him.

It was the Post with a big tabloid style headline: Crazed Killer or Innocent Dupe? Ross Tells All. There was a spliced photo of Alex standing next to Jimmy Ross. She had her arms folded and clearly looked like she was in charge.

Goren looked up, "You're kidding, right?"

Carver sighed. "We got an advance copy. It comes out in a few hours."

Bobby scanned past the headline. He turned to the inside for a few moments, and then slammed it down on the table. "This is insane!"

"We can use it against him in court."

"And until then, Alex has to dodge innuendo and speculation. This is too much." Bobby was on his feet again and grabbed the tabloid. Logan got up too, feeding on Goren's energy.

"I gotta go talk to her about this."

Deakins shook his head. "He's made allegations about your relationship with her. You better stay away."

"I'll go." Logan said.

Goren squeezed his eyes shut and threw out his arms. "This is crazy. Really. She didn't do anything. We are not going to let them victimize her."

Barek leaned toward Deakins. "He's right, you know. We can't treat her like she did something wrong."

Deakins sighed. "Go easy. We're not careful we could end up making it worse for her."

Goren whirled around and headed out the door. Logan moved as if to follow, but he caught Barek's eye and stopped. Looking around frustrated, he spotted the barmaid, and ordered whiskey double on the rocks.

……………………………………………………….

She opened her door and blinked at the harsh light of the hallway.

"You were sleeping," he said.

"Yeah. It's nice to be sleeping again."

"I'm sorry to be here so late. I need to talk to you about something."

She stood aside and let him in. He went straight into her living room and sat down, gesturing for her to sit beside him. He pulled the tabloid out of his coat and showed it to her. Alex had a puzzled look on her face as she looked over the newspaper. Then she gasped and turned to the inside of the paper. Her breath quickened, and when she finished the article, she closed her eyes.

Tentatively, he put a hand on her back and started to stroke between her shoulder blades softly. "I'm sorry. He shouldn't be allowed to do this, and they shouldn't be dumb enough to print it."

"They have printed this?"

He nodded. "It will be on newsstands in a couple of hours."

"He says I manipulated him. He says that this was all a ploy to get your attention."

"It's a scandal sheet. Most New Yorkers won't pay any attention."

"What about the ones who have been wondering about us all along? What about them? People have always speculated about us. This will just confirm what they have always thought. And then last night…well, now we're nothing more than hypocrites."

"We didn't do anything wrong. We have never deceived people about who we are to one another."

She shook her head sharply. "But that's exactly what we're going to do."

He took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. "You did not manipulate him. You did not try to make me jealous, and we are not trying to hide anything from anyone. What is happening between us is between us. We are not obligated to invite the whole world in on our feelings."

"I think I'm too tired for this. He is relentless. I think about him, and I just…get so tired."

A feeling crept into Goren's gut. "Is it tired like you felt when he told you to submit or die?"

Tears sprang from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "I just don't have that much fight left in me. I should be safe by now. He held me six weeks, and I've been back a week now, and right now, I feel like I did, tied to that bed, waiting for him to come and hurt me."

He folded her into his chest and let her sob. He rocked her and let her take time working through her fear and anger. She finally lifted her head and looked at him. "I want to feel strong again. I want to be in control."

"Give it time, Eames. You haven't really had time to recover."

She looked at him, and in his gut he knew that she was not only too vulnerable for Jimmy, she was too vulnerable for him as well. Slowly, he disengaged. "I should probably go. Would you like me to take you to your mother's?"

She shook her head. "I make my last stand here."

He shook his head slowly. "There is no last stand, Alex. You fight for a new beginning. You understand me?"

She nodded.

"I'll call Carolyn. She would love to come and spend some time with you."

Alex started to protest, but Bobby raised a hand. "Please, it's hard to be left alone with all of these feeling. She will understand. It will be good for you to be around someone like that."

She walked with him to the door. "It's good for you to keep some distance. It's better this way. There's no sense in both of us being slandered."

"I'll call tomorrow. I'll call every day. I'm not giving up. We're going to beat him. He's going down hard, Alex. You can count on it."

She opened the door and he was leaning over to kiss her on the cheek when there was an explosion of light. He jerked away in time to see three reporters in the hallways pointing cameras at him and Alex. Questions came at them like gunfire.

"How long have the two of you been involved?"

"Do you think this ruins the credibility of the D.A.'s case?"

"Did you know Ross was mentally ill when you started dating him?"

……………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: These characters are owned by Dick Wolf and NBC.

A/N: Hi! I've been struggling with plot. Ideas only came together in the last day. Here is a nice long chapter for you. Please enjoy! Thanks to those who are taking time to review. It's nice to have a community interested in your stories.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 13**

Deakins slammed the paper down in front of him. Goren looked at it and groaned.

"In my office." Deakins glared at him, his face red and then stalked off to wait for him.

Logan saw the exchange and ambled over. He saw the front cover of the evening Post. There was no Jimmy. This time there was a picture of Goren leaning into Eames' face.

"Shit!" He exclaimed.

Goren ignored him. He picked up the paper and headed in after Deakins.

Logan sat down at his desk and watched as Goren closed the door behind him. The shouting started almost immediately. Deakins grabbed the paper and began waving it in Goren's face. Logan groaned. Deakins was going to let the whole squad watch him tap dance on Goren's ego. Bobby sat there, saying nothing. Finally Deakins calmed down enough to take a seat. Logan knew he should have left it. They certainly weren't asking for his intervention, but he had spent the last five days sitting on his instincts, and it was wearing thin. He got up and went straight for the door. He didn't hesitate or give time for any doubts or common sense to intrude. He walked in and closed the door behind him. Deakins looked up at him. "You better be here to report a police emergency on par with 9/11."

Logan sat down and immediately began to stumble over his words. He felt like a school kid who had just walked into a drug deal on the corner. "I…feel like I have some perspective here. I realize…that I was not invited, but I know that Bobby here has not been having a…thing with his partner."

"Really," Deakins cocked his head. "Are you here to tell me that you know this because you're Goren's one and only true love or doesn't Goren know this yet?"

Goren dropped his face into his hands.

"Come on, Captain. Ease up on the guy. He's been under a lot of pressure. Hell, I know what the media is all about. They camped out on my doorstep for almost four weeks. I was misquoted on a daily basis. I'm surprised the department didn't just close a couple of cases on me and send me off to Sing Sing for the next twenty years."

Deakins nodded, a dangerous glint in his eye. "That's good, Logan. You're bringing perspective. And if this was just about Bobby, then I'd say, 'wonderful, tell us all about the media, Mike,', but this is not about Bobby. This is about Alex. And I don't give a good God damn how connected the two of you feel like you are to her, I have known her longer, and I have known her since her husband died and she was nowhere near as stable as she is now, and I will not allow her character to get bounced around just because one of you has an itch."

Logan looked at both of them. "Well, I don't know what you're talking about. I see Alex merely as a—"

Bobby shook his head. "Save it, Mike. That speech was for me."

Deakins turned his attention to Logan. "Let's go back to the part where you provide evidence of Bobby's innocence."

Logan looked at Goren who shrugged. "I don't know what he's talking about."

Logan took a deep breath. "It was before we found her, and we were at the bar, and you and I got drunk. Well, I got drunk and you got destroyed and you did a little confessing."

"Fantastic." Goren looked down at the floor.

"He's never done anything. I think he's in love with her, but hell, who wouldn't be?"

Deakins eyes widened. "Going to give him a little competition there?"

"Uh, no, that's not…what I'm saying," Logan stuttered. Goren gave him a hard look.

Deakins leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he leaned forward. "How do I explain this to you two clowns?" He pointed at Goren. "I don't care what you feel for your partner." Then he turned to Logan, "And Lord knows what you feel about anything. I just know I don't care. Now is not the time. She's vulnerable. She needs our discretion above all else. At the end of this, when Jimmy's in jail, maybe it's a different story. I don't need to know details about anybody's personal life. We got a policy around here, and I'm not about to encourage people to disregard it, but things happen and as long as people keep their business out of the squad room, I'm good."

"That's good to know. Right, Bobby?" Logan looked at him.

Bobby looked at Logan, "Shut up, Mike." He returned his attention to Deakins, "I'll do whatever's necessary to keep her safe."

"You gotta stay away from her, Bobby." Deakin's voice had softened.

He sighed deeply. "Yeah, I know."

All right. Get out of here, both of you." Deakins picked up some paper and a pen and returned to work.

……………………………………………………………………………

Alex sat at the window and looked down on the street. It was surreal. There were three vans that she could identify as TV or print media. A few reporters were hanging out in a bus shelter across the street. The only good news is that there was a cold March rain coming down, and she could be fairly certain they were all pretty miserable right now.

Carolyn came in with two steaming mugs of peppermint tea. She set one down next to Alex and took a look out the window herself. "I say we get out some blankets, find an old movie, and forget about those jerks out there."

"Carolyn, did you know that I was a widow?"

"No." She sat down on the other end of the couch.

Alex smirked. "No reason you should, I guess. I never felt like much of a widow. I was young when we were married. He was a beat cop in The Bronx. I was finishing school. We only lasted 9 months before he was gunned down when he responded to a domestic."

"I'm sorry." Barek's forehead creased in concern.

"It's weird. I'm thinking about that today. It was my first big trauma. I was 22 years old and too young to be married. We were really impulsive. We fought a lot; he was busy cultivating a serious drinking problem and I was frantically hiding my birth control because I knew getting pregnant was not the answer. When he was killed, I was hysterical, completely at a loss as to how to handle everything. My mother had to come and stay with me because I was drinking so much; I think I might have been suicidal although I don't remember being purposeful about it."

"Is this similar to how you're feeling now?"

"I don't know. It must be. Otherwise, why would I be thinking about it? I really don't think much about that time anymore. It was 16 years ago. I feel so much more grounded in my life now."

Barek put her cup on the table. "Are you feeling suicidal?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm tired but I'm not done fighting. I just remember how powerless I felt. The whole world was spinning around me, and I couldn't find any relief."

"This is going to get better, Alex."

"There's this feeling in my gut that I got when I knew I had lost him. He was lying cold in the morgue and I went to identify him. I couldn't touch him. He was no longer human, he was a homicide. It was that moment when I realized that it was no longer theoretical. He was there in the flesh, and there was no story or fantasy that would ever erase the truth; I was gripped with this ache that was bottomless. It held me hostage for years. More than any other, it's the memory of that ache that follows me."

Barek looked out the window for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure I understand. Do you feel like that now? Do you feel like you're losing someone? Is it metaphorical? Perhaps, it's the loss of your safety that you're experiencing. Or is this about Bobby?"

Alex stared at her as if also trying to understand, and then shook her head. "I'm sorry. I think I'm rambling. I don't know what I mean."

"The tabloids aren't going to destroy your relationship with him. You've been partners too long. You take care of each other. The rest of us are sort of in awe of the connection you two have."

"It feels really fragile right now, under the microscope. I hope it can survive all of this scrutiny." Alex leaned against the window sill and got silent.

Carolyn gave her a couple of minutes before interrupting her reverie. "Alex?"

"I feel that ache again like he's going away and there's nothing I can do."

Carolyn reached over to stroke her arm and the door bell sounded. Alex sighed and Carolyn jumped. "I got it."

Alex let out a deep breath and threw a little levity at Barek. "Don't get so colorful about their mamas this time. I suspect that some of these reporters have long memories."

Carolyn flashed her a grin before checking the peephole on her door. The grin quickly faded at what she saw. She opened the door to two large detectives with sour looks. "What's going on?"

They strode past her into the living room. "Detective Eames, I am Detective Frawley and this is my partner, Detective Grady. We're with IAB. We would like you to come down with us to the station for a little chat."

Eames frowned. "IAB? What does Internal Affairs want with me?"

"The Chief of D's thinks it's a good idea for us to look over this case. We've had our share of embarrassments this year, and don't want it to turn out that Jimmy Ross has got a leg to stand on with his allegations. It's for your protection as well."

Carolyn walked in. "The hell it is. She doesn't need to go anywhere with you."

The bigger one looked at Eames. "You want the first thing on this report to say you're hostile about speaking to us?"

Eames unfolded herself and walked past the detectives. She disappeared into the bedroom and came out with her coat. Carolyn walked over to her. "You shouldn't go with them now. Get a lawyer. At the very least, get your union rep."

Eames shrugged her off. "I have nothing to hide. My story is what it is. I just want to tell it and get it over with."

She followed the detectives out the door. Carolyn grabbed her coat and fished out her cell phone. She immediately began punching numbers as she trotted down the hall after them.

………………………………………………………………………….

IAB was located in 1PP just a couple of floors up from Major Case. Deakins got Barek's phone call, and began dialing the numbers of colleagues trying to find out where they were taking her.

Barek sat on her phone call to Goren or Logan. Neither of them had the detachment to do anything but run at it like a bull at a red flag. She got to 1PP a few minutes after IAB, and headed for Major Case. She hoped Deakins had gotten his nose deep into this one. Logan and Goren looked up as she walked by. She didn't stop to explain, but gestured with her head and they followed.

Deakins looked up when they entered and shook his head. "Let's not turn this into a circus act. It's an interview, nothing more."

Goren looked at Barek sharply. "What's going on?"

"IAB picked up Alex. They say they're taking over the case. They want to make sure her story adds up."

"The department has had too many goof-ups this year with scandals. They don't want this to go to trial, and then find out that Eames was lying about parts of her story. I just got off with the Chief of D's. It came straight from him."

"Sounds good," Goren said. He turned and headed for the door.

"Goren!" Deakins yelled. "It's only a God damn interview!"

Goren kept moving.

"I swear to God! I will bust you down to maintenance engineer! Don't go up there!" Deakins turned to Logan and Barek, and gestured frantically. "Get him!"

………………………………………………………………….

They started to question her before she was even seated. It left her with a feeling of helplessness. They each took turns, one firing off a question, and then the other throwing another one out before she even had a chance to answer the first one.

Frawley dropped the latest issue of the Post in front of her. "So tell us what we're looking at here."

She sighed. "He was only going to kiss me on the cheek. It was a gesture of support."

"Damn, Grady, how come you never peck me on the cheek?"

"Cause you know I would start to vomit out my nose." They both guffawed and then Grady sat down across from her. "Partners don't kiss each other, not in the NYPD they don't."

"What does it matter? When did IAB get in the business of spying on relationships?"

"Because Eames, it gives you a credibility problem. Ross says you were sweet on Goren, and this is why you dated him. You say you're not sweet on your partner, but we got a newspaper which would suggest otherwise. It makes us wonder what else you're lying about."

Frawley sat down beside her. "We still can't figure out how he found you at the pier. You said you didn't call him, but there he was. This is another one of those credibility problems we're having."

"You got to think of the department, Eames. We're coming off a rough year: sex scandal in Narcotics, no less than three high profile police brutality beefs, and then we got this. What if we get knee deep into this trial and find out that you've been handing out stories. We know most of this is the truth, but it screws the rest if it turns out you've been mixing and matching your stories."

Eames sat between them, rubbing a spot on her forehead where throbbing pain was building. There was something about their proximity and the verbal intimidation that was bringing her to a small and frightening place. She was using every ounce of strength left in her to deny them any sense of her vulnerability. She put her hand down and started to respond when the door swung open. Big Bobby Goren bounced into the room stopping short in front of the table.

Frawley and Grady were on their feet, fingers pointed at him, yelling for him to clear the room. Bobby had as much fire, and within seconds was nose to nose with Grady, yelling back with as much volume. Eames got up to mediate when Logan and Barek barreled through, and Logan found himself a combatant with Frawley. Eames shimmied in between Grady and Goren, and began pushing on his chest. She got him against the wall. "This is not helping! This is not helping!"

Bobby stopped yelling and closed his eyes, breathing heavily against the concrete wall. Barek took her cue from this, and dragged Logan away from Frawley.

For a moment, silence ruled as everyone regarded each other with wariness. Alex stepped in the middle. "Am I being charged with something?"

Frawley shook his head. "Like we said, it's an interview. There are inconsistencies."

She put her hands on the table top to steady herself. "This is not my problem. My original statement stands. I did not date or manipulate Jimmy Ross. I didn't call him from the pier the day of my disappearance, and I was not trying to make Detective Goren jealous. I have nothing further to add."

Grady stepped forward. "Ross' lawyer is going to take you apart on the stand."

"Well, Gentlemen, welcome to my world." She wondered if they could tell that her legs were feeling loose and weak beneath her.

Bobby spoke in a low voice. "Who told you to come and get her at her apartment? Who told you to take her down in front of the media? Huh? Who told you to treat her like a suspect rather than as a fellow officer who had just survived a terrible ordeal?"

"We had no intentions of harming her," Grady defended.

"Besides we got questions for you too, Goren." Frawley walked up to him. Logan strained against Barek's hold and she had to hiss threats into his ear.

Goren stood feet apart and motioned toward him. "Bring 'em on. Ask me your questions."

Frawley shook his head. "Did you ever consider that she played you, Man?"

Goren threw back his head and laughed. "Jesus, Frawley, you're a joke. Are you programmed only to assume guilt? You're not even making sense. Look at her jacket, for Christ sake. She's decorated. It's spotless. She doesn't play games."

"We're not trying to hurt her."

Goren was in his face. "You pulled her out in front of the media! What do you call that? Somebody wanted this done, and I want to know who."

Grady spoke quietly. "Your suspect has deep pockets. He's had pictures taken with all the right people. I suspect that bringing her down is a lot less damaging to some of the folks upstairs than having their connections to Ross exposed."

Frawley wheeled in his direction. "Shut up, Grady!"

Grady wouldn't meet his partner's eyes. "We were told that she was hiding information. We were assured that she was only telling half a story. We were told to catch it before she ended up on the stand. We were told that her lies would make a mockery of the department."

Goren stepped back. "This is my fault."

Eames frowned. "Bobby!"

He shook his head. "We've been reacting to Ross. We wait for him to make a move and then we react. We're not on our game. We're not being proactive. We should've anticipated all of this. Of course, he would play his connections. He has the money, he has the prestige. We should've known all of this."

"He's been unpredictable," Logan offered.

"It's not an excuse. We're playing catch up all the time. We have to focus. We have to know what he's going to do before he does it."

"We shouldn't have pulled her like that," Grady said.

"Shut up, idiot." Frawley's face was red and angry.

Goren steered Eames toward the door. "Stay away from her now. What you were told to do to her has been done. Now you need to leave her alone."

Frawley slammed the table with his fist and cursed. Goren didn't turn to acknowledge him. He walked behind Alex, careful to give her space, but unwilling to leave her side while she was in this squad room. Logan stopped at the door and pointed at Frawley, a steely look in his eyes. Then he gave him a shit-eating grin and backed away. Barek took him by the arm and pulled him out of the squad.

…………………………………………………………………………

Deakins was red in the face as he stood before his boss. "There was no reason for them to treat her as they did. It was wrong."

Chief of Detectives Sorenson shrugged. "Frawley and Grady are a little rough around the edges. They didn't mean anything."

He leaned over the desk. "I know her. This wasn't necessary. She deserves better from this department."

"For Christ sakes, Deakins, she didn't come down in cuffs. Now drop it."

"Well, he might, but I won't," came the cultured tones of ADA Carver.

Sorenson leaned forward, his fleshy cheeks shaking. "You don't know how to knock, Carver?"

Carver moved up to the desk. "It's my case and she's my witness. You had no right to go near her."

Sorenson snorted. "What do you think the gold bars are all about? I sure as hell have the right to question any suspect in this department."

"She's not a suspect." Carver was talking in precise, clipped tones. "She's a witness, nothing more, and if you go near her again, I will personally deliver photos of you shaking hands with Jimmy Ross to the Post."

"Don't threaten me, Carver. I outrank you, and I got a direct line to your boss."

"I urge you to use it. Arthur Branch and I spent most of the last hour discussing this very case. He would love to give you his perspective on the situation."

Sorenson pointed at Deakins. "You heard him blackmail me."

Deakins took a deep breath. "I heard him clarify with you what actions he would take if you continued to harass my detective."

"Jesus, Deakins, you really want to pick this moment to grow a pair."

Deakins shook his head. "You know…there's a lot going on back in the squad. Sorry to take up your time. I feel like I leave here with the understanding that Detective Eames be treated with a good deal more dignity than she has been. And I appreciate the counselor's reminder that this is his case, and we should run all ideas through him."

Carver looked at him out of the corner of his eyes. "I'll walk you out."

The two men left without waiting for any acknowledgment from the Chief of D's. They figured it was safest to give him the space and time to construct his own revision of the day's events.

………………………………………………………………………………

Logan drove her home. As he neared the corner to her apartment, he saw the number of news van and personnel had doubled since the morning. Eames cursed and slid down in her seat. Logan looked at her and looked at them, and made a decision. He backed the car up, drawing the attention of the media who started to converge in his direction. Then he wheeled around as fast as he dared and roared down the street away from her apartment. Reporters stopped in the street and then turned, running to their vans. Eames squeezed her eyes shut and huddled under the dash. Logan looked down at her. "We'll figure it out, Alex. Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

………………………………………………………………………………

It was opulent in a way that left her uncomfortable. She toured the bedrooms down the hallway, and came back into the living room, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "This is really ridiculous, Mike."

Logan looked up from the long sectional couch located in front of floor to ceiling windows looking out on Central Park. "Relax. This is from Arthur Branch himself. He says the city owes you and he's right."

"This apartment was seized from whom?"

He shook his head. "Carver told me the Feds did it. I have no clue. He said that Branch made a phone call, and half an hour later, some kid in a suit was giving him the keys. You have it for a week."

"It feels weird."

"Enjoy it. Carver says the cable's still hooked up and look at that big screen. If this was for me, they have to pry me out of here with a SWAT team." He got up reluctantly and reached for this overcoat.

"Jeez, Mike, you're going to leave me here alone."

"Carolyn's coming in the morning with your stuff, and I gotta get back to the squad. We got to do some better homework on Jimmy. Someone will stop by later with some takeout."

She nodded and walked him to the door. After he left, she felt a pang of fear in her gut. She hadn't wanted to tell him, he was so excited by the acquisition, but this place reminded her of Jimmy. It had all of the impersonal, expensive touches that his apartment did. She went back into the living room, and looked at the plasma screen on the wall. It was inconceivable to her that someone would want something that garish in a personal living space. She wandered over to the window, and looked out onto the evening skyscape. Even here, her awe was interrupted by a feeling of vertigo as if one step would launch her into a long fall. The bedrooms seemed especially foreboding with their many mysteries. In a closet, she found a wonderfully soft cashmere throw. She went back into the living room, and curled up on the couch, keeping one eye on the front door

She was sleeping when she felt the presence of another. She tensed her body, and prepared to spring. She had no intention of being anyone's captive ever again. A large hand landed on her shoulder and she yelped, throwing herself to the floor, and trying to scramble to her feet.

Then he was on the floor with her, saying her name over and over in that particularly soft voice of his, and her body deflated into his. "Hey, hey, hey. I should have warned you I was coming. I should have called your cell. My fault. I'm sorry I scared you."

She breathed heavily into his suit coat, letting him pull her to her feet and deposit her back onto the couch.

"I brought takeout: all your favorites." He gestured at the containers on the table.

She pulled the throw around her shoulders. "I'm not really hungry, Bobby."

"You probably haven't eaten all day. You eat half a plate of chicken with black bean sauce, and an eggroll, and I'll leave you alone." He returned with a plate and fished chopsticks out of a bag. Without waiting for a reply, he started scooping chicken onto a plate for her. He pulled a bottled water out of another bag, and then pushed all of it toward her. She looked down at it and then at him. She seemed to make a decision because she picked up the chopsticks and began to pick at her food. He smiled, and then piled his own plate with food.

For awhile, they ate in silence. He kept glancing up at her, but she didn't return the looks. Finally, he put down his chopsticks. "Are you mad at me that I barged into the interrogation?"

She pushed food around on her plate before answering. "I don't know. I don't think it helped any."

"Yeah, I haven't really been in control of myself. You might have noticed." He grinned a little, but she was still focused on her plate.

Finally she pushed her food away. "It's all slipping away. You can feel it, can't you?"

"No, it's a moment in time, Alex. It'll get better."

She smiled wistfully looking everything like a girl. "But we'll never be the same. All of this…pummeling, this interference at who we are with one another; it'll destroy what we have, our friendship, our partnership, our feelings."

He got up and moved toward her. "We have to stay focused. What we feel is only about us. No one else has any right to control that." He sat next to her on the couch.

"I feel pretty overwhelmed right now," she said.

He pulled her toward him, and let her head come to rest on his chest. "I know. I only want what you can give."

Her fingers traced lines around his shirt. "You could make love to me."

He smiled and pulled her in more tightly. "You haven't been back that long. We have plenty of time for that."

She reached up and nuzzled his neck, slipping her hand into his shirt. Bobby closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Her lips traced a line to his mouth and he turned into her. Alexandra Eames tasted a little like Chinese food, but there was also something warm and tropical about her as if she was a pina colada on a warm day. He was gentle with her, taking time to let her explore, playing with her lips, her tongue. His hands were quiet as he concentrated on the art of seducing her mouth. She moaned her pleasure to him, sliding over until she was straddling him. She pulled at the buttons on his shirt, slipping her hands through and wrapping her arms around his big torso.

"Alex," he said, breaking the kiss momentarily. "Let's take it slow."

She shook her head, reaching for his mouth again, talking as she chewed on his lower lip. "No more waiting, Bobby. I'm ready."

He relaxed into her kiss, letting the urgency build within him. She began tugging at his belt, and he could feel his reason drifting away. He leaned sideways, and pulled himself to his feet, her petite body still in his arms. "Where's the bedroom?"

She snorted into his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist. "I don't know. Any of them will do."

He kicked open the nearest door. The light from the hallway illuminated a bed in the middle of the room. He laid her down and crawled on top of her, turning his attention to pulling her shirt up and out of her waistband. He started at her waist and began kissing his way up her body. She shivered, the scruff of his beard creating sensations on her skin. He pulled her shirt over her head, and settled back into exploring her chest, licking her nipples through the cotton of her bra. She moaned and pressed herself into him. He pulled himself up on his knees and pulled at the zipper to his pants. Then he started to work on the button to her jeans. She tensed slightly, and he looked up at her. She gave him a smile, urging him to continue, but when he tried to pull jeans down past her thighs, he felt the hesitation in her again. He stopped what he was doing and moved back to her face. Her eyes were wet, and she was biting at her lower lip. He laid down beside her and let out a deep breath. "Honey, you're not ready for this."

She rubbed at her eyes. "I want to be."

His hand brushed her chest lightly and settled on her waist. "We need to wait."

"I'm so sorry." Her chin began to tremble.

"Shhh! I'm not. We take it slow. I don't want this until you're ready. I mean it."

"I got you all hot and bothered."

He looked down at the tent created in his boxers. "It's okay. You give me a few minutes, and I'll be just fine."

She put a hand over her eyes, and a smile slowly grew on her lips.

"What!" He demanded.

She was giggling through her tears. "I don't know. It's just ridiculous. Everything is so comic. You and I just can't seem to catch a break."

He propped his head in his hand and looked down at her, his brown eyes warm and affectionate. "I've missed your humor."

She peeked out from under her hand. "Well, that's good because it may be the only entertainment you're getting out of me for some time to come."

………………………………………………………………………………..

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

15

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They are the property of NBC, Dick Wolf, and Rene Balcer.

A/N: I have been stewing about the direction of this story. What I have chosen is intense and not a little graphic, and I do not mean sexually graphic. It is the only direction that I really felt with any passion. I am deeply grateful to those who are still with me. The hits and reviews have dwindled, but it's not going to slow me down. I want to finish this story satisfactorily. Thanks for sharing it with me.

Sheila

**Control **

**Chapter 14**

Bobby leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. She moaned at his touch and rolled toward him. "Hey!"

"I'm going to go to work now. We have a lot to do."

"I'm coming with you," she said as she rubbed at her eyes.

He shook his head. "Too early, Eames."

She propped herself up on an elbow. "I'm not staying here alone and I can be helpful. It's better than leaving me here with all my demons. Besides, press isn't going to bother me at 1PP."

He looked at her for a moment as if battling with her logic. "No. There's too much risk. We shouldn't be seen together right now, and because you are the complainant, you can't get near the evidence. We can't play with this. We're putting him away this time: no screw-ups."

He searched her eyes for a reaction, but she merely nodded. She knew he was right. Then he rolled away from her and out of bed wearing only his boxers. She watched him reach for his pants. His arms and legs were long and thick, and she shivered as she remembered the strength of them wrapped around her. Even after the night in Cape Cod, Bobby Goren was her partner first, but now he had become this man who had a slightly musky smell and long fingers and a soft voice that tickled her ear. He liked to hold her in his sleep; he didn't roll away from her like her other men did. It was something to get used to, having this large, warm body plastered against hers all night. He snored as big men so often do, and mumbled things in his sleep. She could feel his restlessness, his fingers twitching in the midst of a dream. He liked to nuzzle her neck, and his grizzly jaw sent shivers down her spine.

"Coffee?" He asked breaking her thoughts.

She sat up and slid out of bed. "Yes, let me do it. You always put too much damn sugar in it."

"You like it that way," he called after her retreating form.

He sat down at the table, and tied his shoes. She came in with a steaming cup and put it down before him. He caught her by the waist, pulling her into his lap. "I like seeing you in my t-shirt, your legs bare. I like holding my fierce, tiny partner in my arms at night. I like that your hair sticks up in the morning and that you don't run into the bathroom to fuss at it. I like that you know me so well, and that you accept me as I am."

"Next you're going to tell me you like green eggs and ham," she drawled.

He smiled at her. "I'm happy right now. I want you to know that."

She ran a hand through his short curls. "I want to be too. I don't want to disappoint you. I just don't feel in control. Everything is so intense. I'm just trying to keep up."

"You make the rules, Alex. I won't push you. I promise."

She rubbed her cheek against his. "Make no mistake, Bobby Goren, I want this to happen just as much as you do."

"Uh, Alex," he whispered into her ear. "Someone's gonna stop and visit you today."

She pulled away and looked into his eyes. "Okay?"

"Dr. Skoda is a friend of mine, and um, I asked if he could stop and meet you. He was very helpful during your disappearance."

"You told me." She slid off his lap. "What are you hoping he will do?"

"I want him to talk to you about Post Traumatic Stress." He watched her closely as she walked into the kitchen. "I should have asked. We've, uh, been so distracted by other things, and I don't want to make the assumption that this is just about physical wounds healing."

She appeared in the doorway. "You should have discussed it with me. Let's just be clear about that."

He nodded.

She rubbed at her eyes. "I know it needs to happen. I know that."

"Do you want me to call him and tell him not to come?"

She shook her head. "I want to meet him. Just remember Bobby, you promised not to push."

………………………………………………………………..

She liked him almost immediately. He was quiet and assuming, and let her make all the moves. She led him into the living room and appreciated the space he gave her by sitting across the room.

He looked around. "This is quite a setup you got here."

She shrugged. "It's too big, too expensive. It makes me uncomfortable."

He nodded. "Did Bobby tell you why I was stopping?"

"You're going to tell me that being kidnapped and…." She took a deep breath. You're going to tell me it's going to screw up my life and I am destined to spend my life as an emotional cripple."

"Actually there are no guarantees on that. We all cope differently."

She leaned forward. "I'm not going to pretend I'm all right. I'm not. I used to be so sure about everything. Now I don't know. I feel fear, but it's more than that. I feel like I don't know who I am anymore."

"Your psyche took a blow; knocked you off your feet. It left you unbalanced and overloaded with feelings you can't control."

She cocked her head. "That's not bad, Dr. Skoda."

"Who you are is still there; it's just being overshadowed by the images and fears and anxieties that follow a trauma."

"I'm mad at myself."

"You've been inundated with all of this ugliness, and you have to be angry at yourself for allowing it to happen."

She tensed. "You think this is my fault too?"

"No, but your psyche does, and the media is fueling it with their attention to Jimmy. I won't even comment on what an idiot the chief of D's is. If only, if only, if only…Tell me your thoughts aren't taking you there."

"They are." Her voice had grown soft and she wrapped her arms around her waist as if experiencing a chill.

He nodded. "There are a thousand points where you could have done something differently, but we never know about these moments until after it's all over. And we turn our regret into anger at our lack of omniscience."

"You're almost as good as Bobby."

He chuckled. "Bobby would've been formidable in the field, but I suspect he is better suited for what he does now."

"I don't want to disappoint him."

"Now that's a whole conversation in itself, but let's hold off on that for right now. I want you to think of yourself as someone recovering from a fall. Let's imagine you broke your leg. As impatient as you can get about that, you know you have to rest. You know recovery will take time. You know that you can't expect to be able to run a marathon for a long time. This is the same thing. Because it's intangible, we tend to not allow ourselves to recuperate in the same way. We imagine that because we can walk and talk, we should be back at full speed in no time, but your emotions need just as much attention and care as a broken leg does."

"People pay you for this?"

"Nope. I'm not a therapist."

"Okay, well, whatever. You're hired."

He grinned. "Bobby said you had spirit."

…………………………………………………………………………

Bobby sat in a room surrounded by every document on Jimmy Ross he could gather. His blackboard was set up and he was making lists. Logan and Barek had wandered in, and were watching him work with some fascination.

He sensed their presence, and pointed a long finger back at them, his eyes still on the blackboard. "This case is going to hinge on explaining how Jimmy found her at the pier."

"He followed her from her apartment," Logan said.

"No!" He turned his head at them, eyes blazing, giving evidence of the intensity of his concentration. "No one will believe that he followed her for 6 hours before grabbing her. She would have noticed. Eames is no fool."

"Uh, okay. The last thing she asked you before she was snatched was wondering if he could be tracing her phone." Barek moved documents out of a chair and sat down.

He threw his hands up. "My experts tell me that he can't trace her from his phone, but he could through her phone. He would've to have had her phone at some point and put a trace on it manually."

"He could have done this when he broke into my apartment."

"But he didn't. Her phone has been to the lab. There are no signs of tampering."

"Damn!" Logan had to resist the urge to push Bobby's carefully orchestrated mess off the table in his frustration.

"He could have traced it if he had talked to her on his phone, but that didn't happen. We checked his cells records and hers."

"This is the kind of crap that messes with a jury." Logan paced back and forth. Barek cleared off another chair and gestured to him. He sat down reluctantly.

"Jimmy's smart. He's an inventor. We have to think like him."

Bobby nodded at Carolyn. "Exactly."

"I'm going to leave it to you brains. The only thing I ever invented were reasons to not get married."

"You were the last one to talk to her, Bobby. Could he have tampered with your phone?" Carolyn leaned forward.

"No, he had only a couple of minutes with me unconscious. It wasn't enough plus he would have had to anticipate the need. I think he fully believed that she would leave with him that day. He would have had no reason."

"It went with you to the hospital. You used it to call Alex," Logan murmured.

"Yeah, this is all academic. I had the phone checked just in case. It's clean."

"Do your experts know if the tap could have happened through the charger?"

Bobby looked at him. "I never thought to ask."

"Your phone was dead. Do you remember? I went out to the desk to find a charger so you could call her."

"Where'd you find the charger?" Bobby's eyes held him intently.

"It was right on the desk. I didn't even ask. I just grabbed it and came back in."

"What happened to it after that?"

"You used it while on the phone with her. You didn't have time to wait for it to charge. Afterward, I just dropped it back on the nurse's station."

Bobby nodded. "I gotta make phone calls, and you need to see if you can find me that charger."

………………………………………………………………………….

"I don't remember much. Really. It's vague."

"You have nightmares?"

"Yeah."

"What can you tell me about them?

Oh God, Skoda, tell me you're kidding? It's nothing more than images of Jimmy being nice and then cruel. It's surreal."

"That's what dreams are supposed to be. Clearly, this is not comfortable for you. I'm going to ask you a question. If you can answer, then fantastic. If it is too painful, then just say no."

She took a deep breath, and pulled the cashmere throw around her.

"Alex, tell me what words come to mind when you think of your nightmares. Don't try to describe or explain, just give me words."

She closed her eyes, and frowned. "Cold, scared, angry…frightened."

"Good. Concentrate. Give me more words. Things you remember from your dreams."

"Cologne, strong and nasty. I hate cologne now…Cuffs digging into my wrists…hunger pangs…I remember promises…I remember rope…She helped him…the rope scratched my neck…I yelled…" A look of terror grew on her face and she stopped.

"That's good, Alex."

She opened her eyes, her breathing coming in heavy gasps. "It's just a dream. There was no rope and I don't remember Latinka."

"You were tied up."

"I was handcuffed to the bed, not tied."

"Okay." Skoda's voice was soft giving her all the space she needed.

"The only rope I know of is what Bobby told me about Latinka being hung in the basement."

"Were you in the basement?"

"There was work out equipment and it was musty and dank. The floor was cold. It was a cement floor."

"So you were down there at one point."

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't there. Bobby must have told me all this."

"He told you about the cold, cement floor?" Skoda led her gently.

"He must have. I wasn't there."

"But the rope scratched your neck."

"That was a dream."

"You remembered what it felt like."

Alex pushed off the throw, and got to her feet. "I think that's good. That's enough. No more. Okay?"

He nodded.

She started pacing. "Psychiatrists, you're all so fond of people's dreams. Sometimes, they're just dreams. Once I dreamt that I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. It doesn't mean I wanted to. I think climbing a mountain is about 768th on my list of things I would feel like doing, but there it was."

"You're right."

She turned and confronted him. "Then why are we talking about this?"

He leaned forward, his hands clasped in his lap. "Because sometimes, dreams hold memories. Sometimes these memories are ones that are too intense for our waking reality."

"Bullshit! Bad things happened, and I remembered them the best I could. He gave me drugs. I remember the rapes."

"After the last rape, you said you never saw him again."

She threw her hands up. "Because I didn't!" She dropped back into the sofa.

Skoda got up slowly. "It's okay, Alex. We've gone far enough."

"I'm sorry. I want to do this work. I don't know why I'm so upset."

"Let's remember the broken leg analogy. I'm a physical therapist, and we've been exercising that leg, and it's gotten very sore. We've taken it as far as it can go for one day. That's what is going with you right now. We have exercised your memory and your emotions, and it's time to stop."

She absently rubbed a hand across her collarbone, rubbing back and forth at her neck. Skoda closed his eyes for a moment. "You shouldn't be alone this evening. Sometimes, there's emotional fallout after a session like this."

"I'll be fine."

"I would be happier if I knew someone was coming."

"Okay, I'll call Bobby and see what time he's coming over."

……………………………………………………………..

Barek looked up when he closed his phone. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." Bobby furrowed his brow for a moment. "She said that she just finished with Skoda. Said it was intense. I should probably go check on her."

"Sounds good. Logan should be back any minute. We can hold things down 'til you get back."

Bobby got up and his cell went off again. He picked it up and made a face. "Hello, this is Goren…Is she alright? Did you medicate her?..Yeah, I bet she's mad. I missed another weekly visit. Can you tell her-… What! She bit someone!...Okay, I'll be right there…If the staff person wants to call the police, let 'em. Mom knows better than this. No reason to make her life all that comfortable right now." He looked at the clock on the wall. "I'll be there in forty minutes…Feel free to tell her I'm pissed…Of course, she's mentally ill, but she knows right from wrong. No free pass for her today. Got it?...Okay."

Barek frowned at him. "Can I do anything?"

He shook his head. "I should've known better than to disrupt our routine. I'll just call Alex and tell her it will be a couple of hours."

……………………………………………………………………………

Her cheek was numb from lying on the cold, cement floor. She wanted to shift onto her back, but her hands were tied tightly behind her, and they were too sore to tolerate the floor. She watched him walk back and forth, working with a pulley and some rope. He had stopped responding to her, treating her as if she was already dead. She had stopped pleading. It was useless and she found that her will was beginning to fade.

He grabbed her hair and lifted her head. She yelped. Then he slid a thick rope around her neck. It was thick and itchy. He tightened it and then let her head drop back onto the hard floor. She imagined what would happen next, and her emotions broke free. There were no tears; dehydration saw to that. She only had wordless sobs left to her.

The rope jerked and squeezed her neck. Her breath caught in her throat; the pain was excruciating. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited.

She screamed and launched herself upright. The walls of the room were not Jimmy's, and her hands were not tied behind her back. It was dark in the bedroom and empty. She looked at the clock. It was 10:30 p.m. and there was no sign of Bobby. She clutched her stomach and began to weep from a place deep inside. She could no longer deny that there had been a rope. Her breath came in deep gasps, and she found it impossible to get warm. She stumbled out to the living room, and grabbed the cashmere throw, wrapping it around herself tightly. Her body convulsed in her grief; her breath exiting in great gasps. Chilled and unable to find relief under the throw, she dragged herself into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Then she climbed in, cashmere and all, crouching down in the tub, warm water splashing off her huddled body.

…………………………………………………………………………..

Bobby opened the door to the apartment. It was late and he hoped she was sleeping. His mother had run him through a couple of hours of histrionics before she finally calmed. Calling the police had its consequences, and she spared no foul description for her son. He sat as he always did at these times, and waited as patiently as he knew how. He knew that if he left in the middle of a diatribe, she would merely commit another atrocity, requiring him to come right back.

Thoughts of Alex alone ran through his head. She had said she was fine, but there was a quality to her voice that he couldn't quite place and he found himself feeling uneasy about it. Finally Frances Goren calmed down, and even apologized to her son before he left.

The bathroom light was on, and he walked in, finding the floor wet, and a soaked blanket draped on the toilet. He trotted to the bedroom they had shared the night previous and found the bed tousled but empty. He shouted her name but got no response. He was in the midst of pushing open doors to rooms yet unexplored in his search for her when his cell rang. He put it to his ear and listened. His face screwed up in frustration as he slammed the phone shut and headed for the door.

……………………………………………………………

Barek looked out of interrogation observation when she heard him and waved for him. He followed her in. Deakins, Logan, and Carver were already there watching through the mirror. Alex Eames sat in interrogation, an array of photos spread about the table. She still wore her coat, and despite that, seemed to be shivering. Her hair had dried in clumps that she brushed out of her red, swollen eyes. She was focused intently on the pictures as if unaware of the crowd observing her behind the mirror.

He watched for a moment, and turned to them. "What is going on here?"

Carolyn stepped forward. "She showed up about an hour ago. Mike and I were getting ready to leave. She seemed agitated, and didn't want to talk. She went straight into the room you set up with the evidence and began sifting through photos. I tried to talk to her, and she got upset. She said she needed space to concentrate. She physically reacted when I approached her. I didn't know what to do. You weren't answering your cell. I called Deakins and Carver happened to be passing through, and I grabbed him. She picked up a pile of photos and went in interrogation to work. She is not responding to anyone. She just keeps saying that she remembers everything now and we have to leave her alone so she can concentrate. We don't know what to do."

"She might need a hospital," Deakins added.

Bobby jerked his head around to face Deakins. "Let me talk to her first."

Before he left the room, he said, "Mike, do me a favor, call Skoda and update him on the situation."

He walked into interrogation and she looked up. "Hi Bobby, is your mom okay?"

He was struck by the normality of her greeting. "She's okay. Just felt like throwing a tantrum. I shouldn't disrupt our routine like I've been doing."

"That's my fault. Tell her I'm sorry." Alex returned her attention to the photos."

He took another step closer and he could see her body tense. "What are you doing?"

Not looking up from her pictures, she said, "Now is not good, Bobby. I remember things. Real things. I need to understand what happened."

"I want to help." As he eased closer, he noticed that she had gathered all the photos from the basement of the house. Pictures of the floor, ceiling, equipment, and Latinka Pomoravlje hanging from a rope littered the table.

She shook her head. "I need to concentrate. I need to make these images work for me."

"I'm your partner. We work together."

"You'll just try and stop me. You'll tell me to rest."

He sat down in a chair next to her. "Finding memories is important. I want to help you do this. Tell me what you know, and we'll work it out together."

She turned toward him, and he noted the terror in her eyes. He reached out and gently put his hand on her arm. "I just want to help."

She leaned toward and said, "I remembered something. I thought it was a dream, but it's the truth. I have to know everything now."

"What happened?"

"He killed me. I thought that the last time I saw him was when he threatened me, but then he came back and killed me."

"I don't understand."

She gripped his arm. "I thought it was a dream. I didn't believe there was really a rope, but there was and I remember the cold floor and I remember him acting like I was already dead."

"Okay, okay. Take it slow."

"There was a pulley. I was lying on the floor, and he was working on a pulley he had attached to the ceiling. He put the rope around my neck."

Bobby let out breath. "Honey, there was no pulley in the basement. He hung her without a pulley."

"Yes, yes, to make it look like a suicide. Using a pulley would have indicated otherwise. He used the pulley with me."

"He tried to hang you."

"Yes, he did. I tried to talk to him. I tried to plead, but he wouldn't even look at me. I was already dead to him."

She started to tremble. He detached her hand from his arm and took off his coat. "You're cold." He wrapped it around her shoulders and took her shaking hands.

"The rope was harsh and I remembered that it squeezed my neck, and I couldn't breathe."

He put his head down for a moment as if warring with demons of his own. Finally he lifted his head and asked, "What happened next?"

Latinka was there. I finally remember her. She was talking to him. He let go of the rope."

"Do you remember what they said?"

"No, not really. I remember pieces about the mess being too much. I remember her saying that cement was porous and bodily fluids would seep through even if they put down plastic." Her shaking became convulsive and he put his arms around her.

"There was a pulley, Bobby, but I can't find it in the photos," she whispered into his shoulder.

He rocked her gently. "Sshh! You've pushing yourself too hard. It will come. It will all come with time."

She pushed away and looked into his face. "No! I need to know now. I need to understand what happened to me. Why did she come back here? Why did he let her take me away? Where's the pulley? If we don't answer these questions, no one will believe me. If I hadn't acted as I did, Latinka would still be alive."

"You're overwhelmed, Alex. You're thinking in six directions all at the same time."

"Help me, Bobby. Help me do what I need to do or get out of my way 'cause I won't tolerate these mysteries any longer."

"It's too much. You're going to overload."

She stroked his hair. "I feel bad for you Bobby. You have so much. I wonder how you do it all. You're mom is one kind of crazy and right now, I'm another kind. Nobody thinks about what you need anymore."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I need for you to feel strong again. I need to have you in my life. I won't lose you."

"Then help me," she hissed. "I can't stop now."

"You can only take so much, Alex."

She pushed away from him violently and started to gather up photos. Clutching them to her chest, she backed away from him, his big coat hanging loosely on her. "If I understand everything, if I make everyone else understand, then this is all over. Why would I want to prolong this?"

"We just need to take it slow."

She backed into a corner. "Don't take my control away, Bobby. If you do that, so help me God, we'll never be the same again. I promise you that."

There was a gentle knock on the door, and it eased open. Dr. Skoda walked into the room. "Hey."

Alex looked at him. "It came like a flood."

He nodded. "I didn't realize it was so close to the surface, and I certainly didn't realize you had something so potent to uncover."

"I can't stuff it back in. I can't just temper it like all of you want."

"I know, but if you move full speed, you might go too far, you might injure that broken leg so badly, you'll never walk again."

"Then do it with me. Hold my hand, carry me, whatever analogy you want to use, but help me get this done 'cause it has hold of me now, and I don't think I can control it like you seem to think I can."

Skoda looked at Bobby for a moment. The big detective looked defeated. Then he turned his attention to Alex again. "What do you need now?"

"Take me back to that house. We have to know what happened there. We can strengthen our case against Jimmy and I can know my memories."

………………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

15

A/N: It's been a long, tough week. My only solace really are the words I write here. Thanks so much for the feedback. It is wonderful to hear from so many of you. You took the edge of a stressful week. Nothing serious. Just too much of everything. I have two-three more chapters, and then we put this to bed. I think it will be hard to let go of.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 15 **

They stood around the two SUV's, hands burrowed deep in pockets, stamping their feet on the cold asphalt, and generally not coming to a consensus on anything. Alex was ready to ditch the whole lot of them and go on her own. But she restrained herself as she was the problem at hand, and if she didn't solve it, they were going to make it difficult for her to do much of anything.

"It's a lousy idea. You should know better, Skoda. Hell, I do and I haven't ever taken a psych class." Deakins growled.

"I have to take the other side, I'm afraid. The more evidence we gather, the less stress it will be on Detective Eames at the trial," Carver countered, rubbing his gloved hands together.

Skoda shrugged. "It's a risk, but you'll be mistaken if you think this is your decision to make. Alex is at a point of crisis. She's going to call the shots whether we want her to or not."

Deakins turned to Alex. "This isn't right. You can't expose yourself like this. It's not going to help anything. Let us do the thinking. We're not…we're clear-headed."

She stood there, almost a foot shorter than anyone else in the circle. Her face was pale, shadows curving hollows under her eyes. She was thinner than she had been since she was 16 years old, and it seemed like she might blow away in the right wind. But those grey-green eyes were still fierce as she faced her captain. "I'm going with or without you."

Deakins glared at Skoda who shrugged at him and asked, "Your solution to this?"

Everyone got quiet. The only other solution was to hospitalize her, and while everyone including Alex had considered it, no one was willing to voice it. Alex turned to the end of the parking lot where Bobby was, pacing back and forth, warring with himself. It was no secret what he thought. He had become silent and withdrawn ever since she began insisting on the journey. Deakins began to complain that he should never have let Skoda into the 'damn squad room in the first place' when she broke away and walked over to him. He looked up as she approached, and burst out with, "It's a dumb idea!"

She dug her hands into her pockets. "Then why aren't you over there arguing?"

He pointed at her. "Because I can see the look in your eye. You're going no matter what anyone says."

She bit her lip and looked down at the ground. "Are you going to make me go alone?"

"I don't think you're ready. Hell, I don't think…No! I know I'm not ready to go back there."

She stamped her foot hard on the asphalt and made a sweeping gesture of frustration. "I want it out! I want it out now! I'm strong enough and I can't live with the questions. I want to know! Help me, Bobby. Damn you!"

He moved toward her, reaching out his hand to touch her. "Then give it a couple—"

She pulled away from his fingers in annoyance and stalked back toward the other men discussing her well being and what was right and wrong for her. The keys were in the ignition already. She wasn't going to wait for any more discussion. She would climb in and go. They could follow or call the state patrol or put out an APB or whatever the hell satisfied their patronization of her life.

Bobby trotted up alongside her. "I know what you're going to do. And I'm going with you, but I want you to know that being stubborn is not the right answer to this situation."

She flipped her head at him and retorted, "Neither is treating me like I'm fourteen years old."

"Okay, that's not even close to what's going on right now."

She swallowed hard and headed for the driver's seat, but Deakins beat her to it. He gestured for her to climb into the back. Carver got into the other car, and Bobby started to climb in after Alex when Skoda stopped him. "I think I should ride with her. You can ride with Carver."

Bobby's face screwed up with all the frustration that was building inside him. "The hell?"

Skoda stood his ground. "Like it or not, I am the mental health professional in her life right now. She needs to process what I did with her yesterday."

Alex leaned forward. "I'm sorry, Bobby, but he's right. He and I…we have to finish what we started."

He walked away, shaking his head and for a moment, she was afraid he wasn't going to go at all, but he yanked the passenger door open in Carver's truck and climbed in.

…………………………………………………………………………..

By the time they got to the entrance of the basement, Eames was nothing like the fierce woman was ready to do this by herself. Trembling had taken hold in her limbs, and her eyes were wide and wet. She immediately searched for Bobby's eyes. His anger softened at her fear, and he went over and put an arm around her protectively. "I'll be there every step of the way."

She nodded and flipped on the light, taking the stairs as if they could collapse at any moment. The scene was pretty much as they left and the stench left from the bodily fluids was intense. Ever prepared, Bobby pulled out Vaseline for her to rub inside her nose. He, the man of a thousand smells, left his nose open to the assault.

She got to the bottom of the stairs and stood, surveying the scene; there was an old stairmaster and an elliptical machine. There was a boxing bag shoved in a corner. It was a dank and bleak place, the cream colored paint on the walls doing nothing to lessen the isolation of it.

She walked gingerly around the room and then crouched, looking sideways at the boxing bag. She put a hand on the cold cement and closed her eyes. Bobby crouched beside her. "This is where he lay you down on the floor, isn't it?"

Eyes closed, her face screwed up tightly and she nodded. She took a deep breath and let it out through her mouth. "The pulley was on the floor next to my head."

Bobby looked at the hook suspended from the ceiling and then back at the ground. "Are you sure? It wasn't already hanging. See, we thought the hook was for the boxing bag, but I can see now that it's different. But you're saying that the pulley was on the ground."

"He was having trouble deciding how to position me. He brought the pulley down to test it."

Bobby nodded, working to keep his rage in check. She had lain on the floor, cold and helpless, watching while he methodically planned her execution.

"He dragged the pulley past me at one point, and it got caught in my hair. There might still hair in it."

Bobby leaned back on his heels. It was clear that finding the pulley was going to be important. Deakins caught his eye, and started looking around the room for it. Skoda and Carver stood at the bottom of the stairs watching her intently.

"He was starting to pull on the rope when Latinka came in. She was upset…sort of babbling. She said that this was not the right way to do it. She kept at him. He yelled at her to quiet down, told her to remember her place. I remember she got quiet for a moment, and then she said that she thought it would ruin the basement forever. She said that the floor was porous, and there was bound to be spillage no matter how much plastic they put down. Jimmy likes his place to be spotless. She finally got to him with the idea that the mess would be unmanageable. She told him that if he helped her get me into her trunk, she would hit me with the tire iron and dump me over a bridge. She told him she wanted to prove that he was right to take her back."

She bit her lip and her eyes were far away for a time. He squeezed her shoulder and didn't move.

"They hefted me into the trunk and Latinka pulled out the tire iron. She asked him if he wanted her to kill me in front of him. I don't remember what he said, but then she told him that he should stand back in case of blood spatter. He said something about doing it outside of the garage. Good ol' fussy Jimmy: he couldn't stand the thought of someone's blood getting all over his things. She was good. She was really convincing."

"She drove for a while, and then stopped the car. I thought that this was it. I was actually not afraid. I think I just was happy it wasn't Jimmy doing it. She opened the trunk and started talking to me. It took me a couple of minutes to understand that she was going to help me, not kill me."

She started to deflate a little and she leaned into the hand he had on her shoulder. "I don't know how much more I can remember."

Skoda stepped forward. "This is more than good. Don't worry."

"She asked me a question. I remember that. She asked me…"

Alex looked directly into Bobby's eyes. "She asked me what she needed to give the police. She said the police always believe Jimmy."

Bobby stared at her intently, and then she breathed in sharply. "Oh God, I remember. I know what I told her." Her eyes closed. "I told her to get the pulley. I told her it was important evidence."

"You didn't know," He responded automatically.

Her breathe heaved in and out. "I told her to go back to that monster's house to get the pulley. She asked me what to do."

"You were drugged. You didn't know." He shook his head empathetically, his eyes glued to hers.

She began to hyperventilate. "I told her to go back and she did, and he hung her from the ceiling. Oh God!"

Skoda was there on the floor with them. "Remember the breathing exercise. You're going to pass out if you don't slow down. Get a paper bag," he yelled over his shoulder. Deakins was already pounding up the stairs.

Bobby gathered her into his arms. "Breathe with me, Honey. Breathe with me." His body enveloped hers entirely, and he put his cheek against hers. "It's okay. We'll breathe together, Baby. It's okay. I understand. You didn't know. You couldn't know. He tried to kill you and you focused on the one thing you could remember. It's all right. She understands. She has to. Both of you were so brave. Together, you're going to beat him. It's true. You and Latinka are quite a team."

Deakins bounced down the stairs with a bag, but by then, she had settled into his embrace, and her breathing had slowed. Bobby pulled her to her feet, and wrapped his arm around her torso, walking her up the stairs. Bobby gestured at Skoda at the top of the stairs. "We need to search the house. Can you take her out to the car?"

He nodded and wrapped an arm around her. She seemed reluctant to let go of Bobby, but she did, and went with the psychiatrist out to the SUV.

Bobby, Deakins, and Carver each took part of the house. It was only twenty minutes later that Deakins emerged from the garage, holding the pulley wearing latex gloves. They gathered around it, and Carver shined a flashlight on it. Two long blonde hairs clung to the hinge. Carver smiled wide and shook his head. They carefully bagged it and headed back to the city.

………………………………………………………………………………….

How Logan managed to get all of the nurses from that station into the same room at the same time was a miracle as far as Barek was concerned, but there they were, standing and sitting, all of them impatient to get out of there. "Okay, Ladies, I need just a minute of your time."

A male nurse cleared his throat and glared at Logan who put up his hands in surrender. "My mistake."

Barek stepped in. "All of you worked this station during the time that Bobby Goren was a patient here, and we need your help. We're looking for a cell phone charger that was on the nurses' station around that time."

One nurse built like a Mack truck looked at them out of the corner of her eye. "You pulled us all in here because someone lost their charger."

"No, it's more than that," Logan explained. "Listen, it's complicated, but it will help in our murder investigation. Please."

Barek pulled one out of her pocket. "It looks like this. It was on the counter at the nurse's station. It was used to charge Bobby Goren's phone."

Another nurse, arms folded tightly across her chest. "We don't let patients use their cell phones in the hospital."

Logan narrowed his eyes at those gathered. Nurses were notoriously hard to intimidate. They did incredibly hard work, and tended to treat their floor like a mini-fiefdom. Logan had dated too many nurses not to have some sense that pushing them would go no where.

"The charger might have been one of yours, but I am betting that it was someone else's."

"We can't use our cells on shift either," said the large nurse.

"Sometimes people leave things behind. Maybe you have to confiscate cells and chargers from patients from uncooperative patients." Barek leaned forward, her soft voice pulling them in.

"I remember the charger sitting on the counter," said the male nurse. "I can't remember though where it came from."

"Does anyone remember who put it there?"

The nurses looked around at one another and shook their heads.

"So someone just put it there and walked away?" Logan's voice betrayed his impatience.

"Maybe," said the nurse he had secretly named Mack Mama. "We don't have a lot of time on shift. I don't know if you've ever noticed."

Barek sensed the pending doom and stepped in again. "Does anyone know what happened to it?"

"That would be Ellen," came a voice from the back. "She's our organizer."

A short nurse with red hair and freckles sat up. "Yeah, I think I put it in lost and found."

Barek's heart skipped a beat. "Could you check to see if it's still there?"

Ellen got up and left the room. A moment later, she reappeared with the charger in hand. Logan scooped it up into a plastic bag and grinned at the small, pudgy nurse. "You hit one out of the park, Ellen. Your next traffic ticket is on me." Logan pulled a card out of his breast pocket and bestowed it on the stunned woman. He didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heels and headed for the elevator leaving Barek to thank the nurses for their time.

…………………………………………………………..

Deakins ordered in half the menu from Taj of India, and then tossed his credit card at them as if ordering $178 worth of take out was a daily occurrence. Ron Carver sat on the phone in Deakins' office while his wife explained to him in much detail how she had never signed up to be a single mother to his children. To his credit, he listened patiently and didn't once contradict her. Logan had followed the charger and pulley down to the lab and was undoubtedly parked on someone's shoulder at that very moment asking inane questions about how long it was going to take. Barek had settled herself next to Alex, and the two women sat in a companionable silence ignoring the food constantly pushed in their direction by Deakins. Bobby was threw some significant looks in Skoda's direction until he finally pushed his biryani away with a sigh and followed Goren into Interrogation.

Bobby paced the room for a moment before speaking. "I don't understand what you're doing. We wouldn't have even gone there if you hadn't pushed."

"I didn't push, Bobby, but I also didn't hold her back. There's a difference, and now we have what may prove to be a valuable piece of evidence."

"One session with you and she's already exploring memories. It's too fast for her. Can't you see that? Did you really look at her out there?"

"She is moving fast."

"Then why are you allowing it?"

"Because control is the biggest thing that Jimmy took from her, and we shouldn't exacerbate that by continuing to co-opt her decisions. PTSD sufferers are much better at thinking for themselves than we ever give them credit for."

Bobby jerked his head impatiently. "It's hard to watch her like this."

"And it's hard for her to watch you like this."

He threw his hands up. "What does that mean!"

"She doesn't want to disappoint you. Do you understand how powerful that is?"

Bobby stopped moving and stared at him. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"She's moving too fast because she wants it over, but did you ever think that she might also be pushing things so that she's not just another disturbed woman in your life. Maybe she can't handle the idea that you might have to take care of her."

"Did she say that?"

Skoda shook his head. "I can't tell you what she said, but I don't need a closed session with her to see how she craves her independence, her competence. I don't think she's going to get better until she's allowed to walk on her own two feet."

Bobby stared down at the table.

"I know this is not about your partnership anymore. Everyone knows. We can see it in every look the two of you give each other."

"If I let go, I'm afraid I'll lose her."

Skoda nodded. "Because she'll spiral out of control or because she'll discover she doesn't need you?"

He shook his head and settled into a chair slowly. "Either, both, I'm not sure."

For awhile the two of them sat in silence. Then Bobby looked at him and said, "She's my one chance, Emil, my one chance at being one of those people who looks forward to tomorrow."

"Bobby, she's facing her fears. I don't think it's unreasonable to expect that you do the same."

………………………………………………………………………………

Logan came barreling up the stairs about an hour later, lab reports in hand. He waved them at all gathered, a big grin on his face. Alex felt a rush of joy rise up within her. It felt powerful against the deep sorrow that enveloped her so entirely.

"We got a match!"

"With what?" Bobby tried to grab at the reports but Logan danced away.

"Everything. We have Alex's hair on the pulley, we have Jimmy's fingerprints. On the charger, we have evidence of tampering…and Jimmy's fingerprints!"

"Whoa!" Deakins roared. "A forensics Christmas!"

"We're going to take that skinny little worm and string him—" Logan realized what he said and stopped. For a moment, silence reigned.

Alex knew it was for her, and she struggled to reassure them all. She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "You can do whatever you want to him. I'm all about having Jimmy Ross suffer."

She settled back into her seat, putting her hands under the table so the trembling wouldn't be detected.

Bobby took his moment, and snatched the reports out of Logan's hands. He walked away reading them intently.

"You do think I will get a look at them at some point?" An annoyed Carver said to Deakins.

"So what do you think, Counselor?" Deakins asked ignoring his irritation.

"I think I'm going to amend the indictment to include capital murder, attempted murder, and for fun, I'll throw in another assault charge."

"Any chance he'll make a deal," she spoke softly, but all eyes turned to her as if she had shouted it.

"Would you be satisfied with life in prison for Mr. Ross? It's about the only leverage I would have."

She nodded. "It would be nice to not have a trial."

Bobby walked toward them. "It would be a tough sell. Jimmy is really going to want a trial. He's going to want a show."

"We put all this evidence in front of him, and he's bound to know the jig is up. He's not going to want to go to the chair." Logan countered.

"He's a narcissist among other things. They're not great long term thinkers. It's all about instant gratification."

"Then we have to convince Jimmy that a trial wouldn't serve him," Barek offered.

"How do we do that? He's nuttier than a fruitcake. Goren just said he's not big into reason." Deakins said.

"We'll embarrass him," Alex said.

Again, everything stopped. Bobby's eyes narrowed and he thought about it for a moment before breaking out in a grin. "That's perfect! Eames, you're brilliant!" He rounded the table and hugged her from behind causing her to emit a rather alarming "oomph!" He backed away quickly, but pointed at her, saying, "That's my girl!"

Deakins didn't know whether to smile at his exuberance or cuff him for assaulting his still fragile partner. Logan compensated by going over to stand next to her and fixing Goren with a glare.

Carolyn jumped in. "Where do we start? His business dealings? Relationships with women?"

Bobby nodded. "Maybe. We need something that he can't refute with character witnesses."

"We need to focus on his ineffectiveness as a rapist, as a lover. He sees them as the same things." She waited for the room to freeze as it inevitably did when she spoke.

Bobby slid into a chair across from her and looked into her eyes. "I think we'll find another way."

She shook her head. "You're going to need me for this. I'm prepared to do it."

Exasperated, Skoda spoke up, "Okay, you two, the rest of us are not up to speed on your short hand. What are you talking about?"

Bobby sat back and swept the room with his hand. "Tell them. Tell 'em what you're thinking."

"We make a meeting with Jimmy. I go in with Carver. I give him a sample of what I'm going to do to him on the stand." Alex said.

Deakins whirled on his heel, a concerned look on his face. "I'm with Goren on this."

Bobby pointed at Skoda. "He can do this."

Skoda nodded. "I see where you're going with this. I write a report and give him a taste. I describe a narcissistic personality with a weak ego. He can't control a woman until he has her tied and drugged. I talk about his fear. I can recount the story Logan told about finding him cowering in the shower terrified when he came to serve the warrant. I can describe a sociopathic personality that will leave him pretty frustrated."

"Sounds good. This is a plan then." Bobby stood up.

Alex looked at Carver. "It's not enough. If we want to get him, we have to go all out. I should be there. I want to show him that I can do a little castration of my own."

"And then what? Huh?" Bobby slammed his hands on the table. Alex jumped. "You can't handle this and I can't watch."

"Sit down, Bobby!" Logan shouted.

"No! Why Alex? Why? You've been through so much."

Her eyes were feverishly bright. "I owe her."

He closed his eyes. "It's not…the right reason. Destroying what's left of your sanity does her no good."

"Well, maybe you could get me a room next to your mom. It'll save you a trip."

Bobby shook his head at her and backed away. He started to say something, but stopped and walked away from them all.

Alex squeezed her eyes shut, moisture gathering at the corners. She swallowed hard and turned to Carver. "Can we do this tomorrow? I think the sooner the better."

……………………………………………………………………………..

It was an hour before he returned. He found her coat and handed it to her and she silently followed him out the door. She told him she wanted to go home, and he knew she wouldn't spend another night in that high rise monstrosity they had used to hide her. He parked the car and followed her in. She didn't question him. He had come to a decision about where he was going to spend the night and she accepted it.

She pulled an old t-shirt over her head and climbed into bed. He sat on the other side of the bed staring down at the floor. "Why are you pulling away from me?"

She rolled to face him. "I'm just fighting for myself, Bobby. I stand strong against him and I win a thousand victories."

"You need to be prepared to fight him like this. You're still so…fragile."

She let out a noise of impatience. "I don't accept that. I stand now. It'll help me recover."

He shook his head and swung his legs onto the bed facing her. "Why are you in such a hurry? This takes time."

"Why are you so patient, Bobby? Why can't you get frustrated like everyone else? Do you prefer me like this?"

He flinched and she knew she cut him deeply, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "You're so good with vulnerability. You're so gentle and kind. Maybe this is what attracts you to me. Maybe we would have never crossed boundaries if I hadn't needed you so much."

He lifted his head, a pained look on his face. "Is that what you really think?"

She buried her face in the pillow for a moment. "I don't know, Bobby. I have all of these fears and thoughts running through my head. Everything is so vivid and ugly. She went back to the house because I told her to. What if I had told her to just drive down to the city, and we would've called you, and he would have been arrested in a few hours. Latinka could have been another witness to his atrocities. This would have been so differ—"

He reached over and covered her mouth. "Stop it. Please. Don't do this. You couldn't know. You just couldn't know."

She let out a cry into his hand, and twisted her head away. "She helped me and I sent her to die."

He pulled his hand away and watched her for a moment. "So…maybe you feel like this is a just punishment for you. You sacrifice your mental health to Jimmy as penance for what happened to Latinka."

She pulled the comforter over her face and sobbed into the cotton. He scooted over and put his arms around her and let her cry into his shoulder. "She wouldn't want this. She wouldn't. If you had been in her shoes, and she sent you down the wrong road, you would understand. I know you would. And this Latinka…well, clearly she was special. I know she would understand."

She started talking into the fabric of his t-shirt. "What if I can't get through this? You get saddled with another ill woman in your life. I know you. You won't walk away. You'll stick with me, and I'll come to resent it because I can't stand the idea of being a burden. You need to learn to think about yourself and what you need. You deserve someone healthy. You deserve someone kind and good; someone you can give all of your gentle strength to. I'm a bad bet, Bobby."

He stroked her hair and whispered into her ear. "Honey, you're the only game in town for me. You're not the only stubborn one around. You hear me? I have expectations of you. I want you to take of yourself because I'm going to need you when this is all over. You don't think I'm going to have a breakdown at some point? You don't think you haven't been keeping me from jumping off a cliff the last five years of my life? Honey, you got nothing over me when it comes to mental illness."

She lifted her head and looked at him. "God, we're a pair, aren't we?"

"Let's stop fighting this, okay? I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not letting you walk away without a fight."

She fingered a salty curl. "It's going to be a tough night. Can you remember some Whitman for me?"

He tightened his grip around her body. "I can barely remember my name right now. I think you're just going to have to settle for some Goren. Turn around, Baby. I like whispering into the hair on the back of your neck."

She spooned him, and groaned as his beard tickled her neck. "Let's see. How about we start with a little free verse? Okay. Sturdy as in powerful, certain, you walk through your day, leading me in all things. So sly, so subtle, no one sees your tremendous power, but I follow because I know that all things true lie within you. My eyes learned to smile when I met you, they are such little devils, they spy on you when you don't notice, they admire you and tease my nose about the sweetness of the scent at that point where your neck meets your shoulder. My mouth dreams of your skin, imagines different ways to worship it, pleasure it, own it…"

They both mercifully fell into a dreamless sleep, secure in the notion of each other's protection.

…………………………………………………………………

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

13

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Dick Wolf, Rene Balcer, and NBC inc.

A/N: There are 2-3 chapter left. I am sorting out the final details. Wasn't it great to see a new episode last night? I have been waiting! It was a good one too, and Eames had a fairly substantial role which I really appreciate. Thanks to those who reviewed. I love to hear from you. I am curious to hear what you think of this chapter.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 16**

Jimmy Ross dressed in a suit for the hearing. However, his pasty skin and hollowed features told a truer story of his current state of affairs. During the hearing, he rolled his eyes and made audible sounds of disgust at the additional charges read. His lawyer tried to broach the subject of bail again, but the judge shook her head the minute the request was broached. When the hearing ended, Carver moved over to the defense table and talked to Jimmy's lawyer. He conferred with his client and then followed Carver out of the court room.

The lawyer placed his briefcase on the table and sat down. "I'm a little surprised, Ron. I thought you had the world's best case built here. Why even bother with a plea bargain?"

Carver made a gesture of indifference. "I'm trying to spare the people the financial burden of a trial."

"My client looks forward to a chance to defend himself in front of a jury."

"And it's your job to advise him of what folly that would be especially in light of this new evidence."

Jimmy leaned forward. "This isn't about the people. This is about Alex Eames. You want to spare her a trial, but it's not going to happen. It's her and I in that room, and I'm going to make sure that everyone knows the truth about her."

Carver frowned at him and then turned to the lawyer. "Can you remind your client that this is not a forum for vendetta. Rather it is a fight for his life especially with capital murder charges hanging over his head."

"What are you offering?"

"No! We're not interested!" Jimmy banged his fist on the table.

The lawyer looked at him. "I'm duty bound to offer you the best legal advice possible. It's insane to not hear the deal."

Jimmy looked away in disgust.

Carver saw this as an opening and spoke, "We take the death penalty off the table if he allocates to kidnapping, three counts of rape, and 2nd degree murder. He'll get life without parole."

"That's a joke! Come on, we're not going to hear any more of this crap!" Jimmy pulled his wrists from where they were handcuffed to the table, clanking the steel on steel angrily.

The door to the room slowly opened and Bobby Goren walked in. He smiled down at Jimmy. "Long time, no see."

Jimmy jerked at his handcuffs again. "Who let him in here?"

Carver cocked his head at Goren. "The detective is not under any sanction to stay away from you." Despite his words, Carver folded his hands together tightly and frowned at him. It was a little early in the game to go off script. Skoda was the one scheduled to make an entrance at this moment.

"Hey! I just want to be here when you see all the evidence we have. You have to admit that after all you put me through, you owe me that." Bobby scraped a chair back and sat down.

"You manufactured evidence," he mumbled.

"We didn't, but I have really grown to admire you, Jimmy. You have left us in knots for so long. That's quite a feat. They don't call us Major Case for nothing."

Jimmy smirked.

Goren pointed at him, looking at Carver. "Look how he can't control his arrogance, his need for power, attention."

"You are no psychiatrist," his lawyer said.

Bobby nodded. "True. But I'm a reader, and Dr. Skoda finished a report this morning." He pulled it out of a file tucked under his arm and slid it toward them.

Jimmy ignored it, but his lawyer scooped it up and began to read.

Bobby stared at him. "This should work in your favor, Jimmy. There are plenty of mental illness diagnoses in there; bipolar, sociopathic personality disorder, narcissistic personality disorder, and paranoid personality disorder. That's quite a soup. Even I feel bad for you."

"The jury will see that I was not in control of my actions."

"Maybe, Jimmy, maybe, but none of these diagnoses would indicate that you didn't know exactly what you were doing."

"I have experts. We'll bury the jury in psychobabble."

"Shut up, Jimmy," his lawyer growled.

Bobby smiled. "The stuff in here about sexual dysfunction is going to be really good. It's gong to be hard for me to keep a straight face in there."

Jimmy frowned and looked at his lawyer. "What does it say in there?"

The lawyer fumbled through the pages for a moment before Bobby snatched it out of his hands. "I'll show you. Ahh! It's right here." He cleared his throat, "And I quote, In my opinion, James Ross's misogyny is based on a deep fear of women. He cannot attack them until he has them restrained and drugged. Even then he can't sustain interest when women continue to refuse his attentions. The victim reports that he was unable to hold an erection for more than a couple of minutes. It is my conclusion that he feels emasculated by strong women, and has a need to control them, but is frustrated in his attempts to do that even under the most restrictive circumstances." Bobby smiled at him. "This is racy stuff, Jimmy."

Jimmy's face grew red. "Those are lies! Bold face lies and they will be exposed in court."

"Sure. Right after they stopped snickering over the little engine that couldn't quite get up the hill." Goren winked at Carver who quickly dug up a grin in order to keep up with him.

Jimmy slammed his manacled hands down hard on the table letting out a scream of anger. "You can't do this. I will not be humiliated publicly like that."

Goren raised an eyebrow. "I don't see a way out of it. I recommend that you just hold your head high, and let it roll off your back."

"We will refute this! No one will believe it!" His hands shook and he kept pulling at his cuffs.

The door opened softly and she walked in. She was dressed in a black suit with a fiery red shirt opened at the collar. Her face held a Mona Lisa smile, and Goren wondered what miracle of acting she was employing to keep that expression in place. The only tell he caught was that she immediately sat down in a chair at the table, and he could imagine that she wanted to hide weak knees and trembling hands.

Despite her rather rushed entrance, the look of calm on her face stuck as she turned her eyes to Jimmy. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

His eyes darted away from her and he said nothing.

"I wanted to stop in, and give you a preview of what you can expect from me in court. It's only fair since by the end of this trial, words like 'impotent', 'sniveling', and 'pathetic' are going to be the descriptions people will send with you to your grave."

Still not looking at her, he mumbled, 'bitch' under his breath. Goren had to grip the table with both hands to keep from scrambling over it at him.

"The public tends to lose interest in murderers who aren't particularly frightening. I mean, don't get me wrong; you're evil but mostly you're pathetic."

"I have rights!" he cried in a high pitched voice.

Goren reached under the table and found her hand. It was cold and clammy. At his touch, she jerked it away and slid the chair away from the table. Clutching her hands together in a ball, she got up and walked around the table until she was standing before him. Bobby eased out of his chair waiting for what might happen next.

"Get her away from me! I want to go back to my cell! She's going to hurt me!" Jimmy was yanking wildly at his cuffs.

She leaned over until she was an inch from his face. "Jimmy, you're going to take this deal. Prison is the safest place for you. You're not built to handle death row. You would cry like a baby every day, and the guards would probably beat you senseless because of it."

He tried to turn away from her, but she grabbed his hair and pulled his eyes back to hers. "I will tell them everything. I will tell them about your pathetic attempts to woo me. I will explain in great detail how you raped me and how you needed me tied and drugged in order to do it. I will tell about how you drugged me and dragged me down to the basement. I remember every minute as you strung up the pulley and put the rope around my neck. We have the pulley, you know. My hair is in it, and your fingerprints are. It's going to be hard to explain away."

Tears were running down his face and his body began to convulse in sobs. He turned to his lawyer, but the man was strangely quiet. He just looked at Jimmy and said, "You have to think about this deal."

"We all know what you did to Latinka. You didn't know that she had helped me. No, you were going to kill her even when you thought she had killed me for you. She didn't know that or she would never have gone back there."

"She killed herself. She was depressed," he sobbed.

"No, she didn't!" She jerked his face back to hers. "She didn't! I will testify that she had saved me and was going to take me down to the city. I will testify that she was proud of beating you. This woman was not in any frame of mind to kill herself, and the jury is going to hear that! Jimmy, you are going to lose. You're going down!" She yanked hard at his hair.

Goren was there, carefully prying her fingers out of his hair. His arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her away from Jimmy. Carver relaxed in his chair.

Bobby could feel the tension in her, but she allowed him to hold her back. Her eyes had become feverish. "I'm going to destroy you, Jimmy, and I'm going to look good doing it. I got strength; you weren't even close to hurting me. I can't wait for that trial. I want to be in there every day, and I'm going to stare at you until you start to cry 'cause you know what I would do to you if I had the chance, and you know the pleasure with which I would do it. You're going to cry every day in there, and the judge is going to be disgusted and the jury is, and the press is going to name you the 'Weeping Rapist'. I got connections at the papers; it's a done deal."

She was straining against him, and so Bobby gripped her more tightly. He wanted to join in, but, for once, Bobby understood that this was her show not his.

Jimmy turned to his lawyer and wailed, "Please help me!"

"You should take the deal, Jimmy. No one else would advise you differently."

"I want my day in court!" He sounded everything like a ten year old boy.

"It's your decision, Jimmy, but I'd listen to your lawyer if I were you. It sounds like Detective Eames could really make things rough for you." Carver added quietly.

"No!" He was hysterical now, and so Bobby let go of Alex and went over to restrain him. The lawyer shouted for guards, and it was with much effort that they released him from the table and dragged him from the room. Alex watched the whole thing from the corner of the room, wide eyed and silent. Jimmy began kicking, and Bobby had to grab his feet and follow the guards out the door. Alex leaned against the wall for support. "I was afraid of that thing?"

Carver walked over to her. "They found Saddam Hussein hiding in a dirt hole like a rat. Being evil doesn't require courage."

Stretched as far as she had ever been, Alex felt the room start to dim. The tension that had overwhelmed her body was suddenly gone, but it didn't leave alone. Slowly, she slid down the wall. Carver stepped over to help ease her down. "He's not going to take the deal." Her own voice sounded hollow and distant, and she absently wondered where she had gone.

Crouched next to her, he smiled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. You really scared him. My guess is that he'll realize that his only release from his fear will be to take the deal. Let's give him a few days."

The trembling began in her limbs and traveled throughout her. Her stomach heaved and she leaned over to vomit the contents of her stomach. She lifted her head again, and Carver could see that the color had drained from her face. The assistant D.A. was not prepared for this type of emergency and all he could think to do was to hold her head and yell for help.

Bobby bounded back into the room followed by Skoda. Bobby pushed Carver aside and gathered her up in his arms. Even then, she seemed limp, barely acknowledging his contact. Skoda yelled at Carver to call 911.

Bobby looked up. "She'll be fine. Just give her a minute."

"She's in shock, Bobby. Feel her skin." Skoda pulled off his jacket. "Lay her down here. Let's get her feet elevated."

Bobby laid her gently on the suitcoat, and then took off his own and draped it on her trembling form. Skoda pulled her feet up onto a chair and then turned around to find her pulse. He looked at Bobby, "She's going to need a hospital."

"I've never seen…"

"It's an extreme reaction, that's for sure."

"Is she going to be okay? Is this a psychotic break?"

"Let's get her sedated and then we'll see."

"I knew something like this would—"

"Knock it off, Bobby. We don't have any time for that right now. She needs to feel safe. Take her hand. Talk to her."

Bobby stroked her face and began whispering words to her, no real sense of what they were or what they meant. When the paramedics pulled him away from her, he wasn't even sure if she was still conscious or not.

…………………………………………………………………………..

Hospitals are good at holding mysteries. In fact, some might say they revel in it as a means of keeping people in the dark about how little even they know about the human body. Bobby haunted the halls of Bellevue for three days, growing shaggier and more disheveled with every hour. He lived on coffee, cafeteria eggs, and vending machine candy. Communicating with him had become difficult at best. He brushed aside attempts to comfort or reassure him, and bristled at suggestions that he go home and rest. The nurses seemed wary of him, and so he stayed away from them in hopes that they wouldn't complicate his efforts to inhabits the hallways of the ward. Every day Logan came and tried to take him home, and every day, they ended up one twitch away from a fist fight. Barek took care to be at these events to keep them both from being kicked out of the hospital.

Skoda had become public enemy number one for Bobby. He wouldn't allow Alex to have any visitors, and handed out vague information on her condition as if they were state secrets. It had gotten so that Bobby couldn't even look at him when he walked in the room. He would retreat to a corner, and listen to Skoda's updates sullenly, doing his best to maintain an uneasy peace.

Mary Eames was the only person who could reach him. She had set up shop in the waiting room on the first day, a big bag at her side. From it emerged all varieties of surprises from a half knitted scarf to a full set of toiletries, reading material including Whitman and Tolstoy, and a photo album of Alex's childhood. Every so often, she would gesture to him, and he would sit beside her while she pointed at pictures and told him stories. It was the most animated he got during his time at the hospital, laughing at her stories and asking questions. The rest of the family showed at various times throughout the days, but Mary never encouraged them to stay saying that Bellevue was no kind of place for people to linger.

On the evening of the third day, Skoda walked out into waiting, and stood there, hands in his pockets. Mary and Bobby looked up at him. "I need to talk to the two of you. Come with me."

They followed him silently into a room with a two way mirror much like the one in their squadroom. The mirror opened out on a hospital room, Alex lying in the bed sleeping soundly. Bobby walked up to the glass. "Can we go in?"

"No, right now, we need to talk." Skoda gestured at a table and chairs. Bobby pulled out a chair for Mary and then warily sat himself.

"I talked to her today for quite a while. It was a good talk; she was quite lucid."

Bobby's face flushed. "That's good! Did you hear that, Mary?"

She nodded and put a hand over his, squeezing tightly.

"Yes, I think it is good news. You were right, Bobby. She did have a psychotic break. She pushed too hard, and her psyche needed escape."

"But it sounds like she's going to be fine."

Skoda sighed. "I hope she will. She really has a long ways to go yet. Her emotional state is really quite precarious."

"You're trying to say something to me, Emil. I can tell. What are you trying to tell me?"

"She needs a very specific set of circumstances for her recovery, and they do not include you."

Bobby stopped, his mouth open. Mary Eames let go of his hand and frowned at Skoda. "I don't understand, Doctor. What's wrong with Bobby? He has been there for her every minute. He found her."

Bobby's hand twitched and he struggled not to remind her that he had stumbled on Alex, nothing more. Instead, he tried to focus his attention. "I think we better let Dr. Skoda explain what he means."

"Thanks. I appreciate that, Bobby." He leaned forward. "She's really delicate right now, and if you ask her what she's most worried about, she'll say she's worried about you. She feels like she owes you. She's afraid to be sick, that it will be too much of a burden for you."

Bobby shook his head. "No, Emil, we talked about this. I told her I was fine. I told her I wasn't going anywhere."

"Right now, her recovery is about you. She doesn't want to disappoint you."

"I've tried to talk to her about this." Bobby's fingers danced on the table in his nervousness.

"That's not all. Everything is about control right now for her. She needs to run the show on her recovery. She can't be a prisoner to anyone else's expectations and she won't let anyone lead her by the hand."

"I don't try to do those things."

Skoda snorted. "Bobby, you are a very powerful personality. Emotionally, you're a hurricane. She can't sort it all out right now."

He rubbed at his face. "I would work within whatever guidelines you gave me."

"I talked to Alex about this for quite some time today. These are not my wishes solely. Alex agrees. She wants to see you, wants to talk to you, but she knows that it doesn't help her right now."

Bobby was on his feet, his chair falling to the ground. "You're telling me that I am hurting her; I'm no good for her!"

"No Bobby, I'm not. I'm really not saying that. Please sit down."

Bobby walked to the mirror and put his fingers on the glass. She lay on her side in the bed, her hair fell across her face and he could see she was untroubled by bad dreams.

"Bobby, listen to Dr. Skoda please. He's not saying that you're bad for Alex. Please, listen to him."

Bobby turned around slowly and picked up the chair. He sat down again.

Skoda leaned toward him. "This needs to be about her right now. She needs to be free of distractions and emotional entanglements, and Bobby, I would say that you qualify in that area."

Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. "I really can be overwhelming. She called me an acquired taste once. Such a sharp tongue that girl has. It was the first thing that I liked about her. I don't want to hurt her, Emil."

"Then give her the space to see herself and to think for herself and to let her make her own decisions in her own time."

He nodded slowly, and Skoda imagined that he was seeing the brilliant detective age before him.

"Can I say good-bye?"

Skoda closed his eyes. "She asked me to do that for her. I don't think she has the emotional energy to let you go herself."

"Will she stay here at Bellevue?"

"No," Skoda chuckled. "This place will only make her worse. I have a therapist in mind, and there's a friendwhere she can stay. It's in California. She'll be safe and with people who care about her. In fact, I was wondering, Mary, if you would go with with Alex. I think it would really help to have you nearby."

The older woman nodded but kept her eyes on Bobby. "She'll be okay, Bobby. I'll watch her."

Skoda took a deep breath. "You can give her a gift before you go."

Bobby raised his eyebrow at the doctor.

"She wants assurances that you'll be okay while she's gone. She wants me to tell her that I feel confident that you'll be fine."

Bobby let out a deep breath. "This is the only way?"

Skoda shook his head. "This is the best way."

He felt such sadness take hold in his gut. Skoda's words and Mary's did nothing to alleviate the fact that she was better without him. Both of them were waiting for a response and all he could trust himself to do was nod. Then he got up wearily and walked to the window one last time. Resting his cheek on the glass, he watched her rest and he wondered if she had ever slept this well when she was with him.

"I can guarantee her that you'll be okay?"

"Yes" he murmured into the glass.

"Bobby, there's a good possibility she'll come back to you."

"Doesn't sound like a healthy option for her," he replied.

"It's the circumstances of the moment that are not healthy for her. Don't turn this into something its not."

Mary got and put out her hand. He let her pull him into a hug. "Take care, Bobby. She'll come back and she'll be looking for you. I have no doubts."

Bobby couldn't raise his eyes to either of them as he left the room. He lingered in the hallway for a moment, avoiding the glances of the nurses who hurried by him, and then realized that he no longer belonged here. He shook his head violently as if to dislodge something caught inside him, and then went straight to the elevators.

…………………………………………………………………………..

Deakins looked at him from across the desk. He hadn't seen him in three days, but the man had lost time to burn and so that wasn't the issue. The Goren who sat before him seemed familiar. He was wearing a sharp suit fit to a tee with every seam. His beard was its usual grizzly, and he had that ever present sleepy look in his eyes.

Deakins tried some questions about Eames, but Goren was vague, even stating at one point he hadn't been in contact with her. Deakins got frustrated when he heard that as he wasn't used to being lied to by his detectives, but there was something about Goren's calm that kept him at bay.

Deakins glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "So you have no damn idea when she's getting back here?"

Bobby shrugged. "Or if she's coming back."

"And you're going to just sit there like a big ape and not tell me one damn thing."

Bobby sighed. "What we had was not healthy. I understand that now. It's a blow, I'll admit, but I've thought about it and what I really want to do right now is work. Skoda says it's best if I'm not a part of her life right now."

"Are you drunk?"

Bobby shook his head. "I hear Samuelson is at loose ends. Maybe I could partner up with him."

"We don't carry that much liability. He'd shoot you by the end of the week."

"Yeah, well, I've learned a lot from Eames about getting along with others. I think I might be better equipped to handle the whole partner thing."

"It'll be temporary, just until she comes back."

"It's okay either way. I'm flexible."

Deakins could only stare at him.

"Is that everything, Captain, 'cause I got a few files to finish up. Then I'm going to go see what Samuelson is up to."

Deakins couldn't fashion any sort of response so he merely nodded as Goren got up and headed out.

…………………………………………………..

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

13

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Dick Wolf, Rene Balcer, and NBC, inc.

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just got back from a three day retreat with a bunch of kids. It was really fun. I am getting the most tremendous support and I appreciate it dearly. We are winding down, and I am not sure if I have one or two chapters left. We'll find out together. Thanks for taking the time to write. It means a lot.

Sheila

Control

Chapter 17

The sun was blinding on her face, and she again felt her skin for sun block. She had already put it on twice, but she had no intention of getting sunburn. She considered that the purview of idiot white females in their teens and twenties. She looked around the land of Oz and shook her head yet again. Around her were hills upon hills looking out on the pacific. White, gleaming mansions dotted the landscape. She was herself sitting on the patio of one such home. A turquoise pool spread out before her, and she sat on lawn furniture that seemed better fit for the living room. Her jeans were rolled up to her knees, and one stray foot skipped across the top of the water.

A maid brought her a wonderfully rich glass of fresh squeezed orange juice earlier, and it was the best thing Alex had ever tasted. When she remarked on it, the maid brought her another. She wanted a third, but couldn't erase the image of an overworked maid straining over oranges in the kitchen.

Her mother was off to the bottom of the hill again, roaming the expensive shops of Orange County. Alex had gone with her the day before, but had been unimpressed with the outrageous price tags and arrogant salespeople. Alex gave her $100 to spend, and figured she'd come back with a nice pair of socks.

A strikingly tall brunette with waves of hair wandered out onto the patio, and Alex squinted up at her. "Hey thanks for giving Mom a ride to the bottom of the hill."

"My pleasure. I gave her a credit card to use and told Maurice to go looking for her around 4 this afternoon."

"Mister!"

She laughed. "Hey, come on. You know I see that woman as the mother I never had. I have the means to spoil. Besides, remember how she was oohing over that house design shop. I told her I was hiring her to redesign my upstairs bathroom, and that she had to buy for that and for herself as payment for services rendered. It's win- win."

"So, you really want your bathroom to look like Brooklyn circa 1950's?"

She shrugged and sat down on the chaise lounge beside Alex. "I miss Brooklyn. I'm sure I'll like it just fine. So how are you doing, Al?"

"I'm hot and I'm the only woman my age in this town without boobs. Yesterday a woman in that salon almost talked me into a chemical peel, and literally, a stranger on the street walked up to me and pointed to the place on my forehead where Botox would do the most good. I love the ocean, I love this pool, and I love you. The rest of it can go to hell.

Mister patted her hand. "That's my girl. I wouldn't want you any other way." She looked at the table next to Alex and laughed. "Did you already go through that entire SPF 75? You are such a freak."

Alex glared at her. "I'm going to need more."

"I bet you will. I'll pick some up. I'll pick up a case, in fact."

Alex smirked at her, and then returned her attention to the blue of the ocean, the distant sound of waves crashing floated its way up to them.

"Therapy's good?"

"Yeah, Maurice is taking me to Marianna's in about an hour."

"Are you talking with her about Bobby?"

Alex stiffened, her eyes still focused on the faraway surf.

"Al, he's on your mind. You should talk about it."

Alex smiled and nodded. "We will. We're just focusing on other things right now. Did you know that Marianna is Skoda's ex-wife? Now, that's interesting stuff."

"Your therapist told you that?"

"I'm a detective. I have skills, and she admitted it. I think she still carries a torch for him. I can't quite picture it myself. To me he looks like a grown up Howdy Doody without hair."

Mister sighed. "This is great. I love how you talk about people I've never met as a means of avoiding my questions."

"I'm not hiding in the Hollywood Hills because I'm having relationship problems. I have issues I need to address. I can't think about him until I'm healthy. I can't be that kind of a burden to him."

"Your mom does a lot of talking after a few glasses of Chardonnay, you know. She thinks he's pretty special. Says he really cares about you."

"Yeah." The edges of Alex's mouth twitched and she looked away.

"I want to meet him."

Alex shook her head. "I have to see if I can work this all out first. He would sacrifice himself for my mental health, and I can't live with that. I want to be strong again before I go back. He deserves someone strong."

Mister made a noise in her throat. "You are so infuriating, Al. You don't have to be perfect for him. The two of you can grow together."

"And I need to know if I can do that. Right now, I feel one misunderstanding away from another breakdown. I can't put that on him."

"Then call him."

She shook her head. "I want to wait. I want to feel more solid."

"I don't even know what to say to you, but I think you're crazy and it ain't got nothing to do with no trauma." Alex smirked and Mister dropped her head back into the lounge and pulled sunglasses over her eyes. "I have to leave in a few minutes. I've got meetings until late. I also forgot to tell you that I need to be in NYC at the end of the week, just for a couple of days. Hans and the kids won't be back from Seattle until sometime next week. You and your mom have the place to yourself."

Alex grinned at her. "You really want to leave me and Mom alone in the palatial estate? Aren't you afraid of what might happen left to our own devices?"

Mister chuckled. "Worst case scenario: your mom decorates the bathroom in mirrors and Elsa has to up the number of oranges she buys for the house. I can live with that level of crisis." Then her eyes lit up. "Hey, I just remembered something." She got up and jogged into the house. She came back with a brown leather book and a handful of pens. "I got you a journal. Don't worry, I bought it when I was in Century City. The price was very reasonable. I thought maybe you could write down your thoughts. You used to do it when you were a girl."

Alex reached for it. "You were always the sweet one, Mary Rose. I always wished I was more like you."

Mister's eyes stung for a moment, and then she screwed up her face and punched Alex in the arm. "You are such a dork, Al. I swear."

Alex rubbed her throbbing arm and edged away. "And apparently, you're a small, vicious child."

………………………………………………………………………

Samuelson looked into the room where Bobby was working. Crime scene photos were plastered about the room. The file was spread out on the desk in front of him, and he was hunched over it, mumbling to himself. "Goren! Come on. I'm not interested in playing mad scientist with you today. Let's go do some interviews."

Bobby looked up for a moment. "I need a minute. There's a connection here. I just need a minute." He refocused on the file.

"Jesus Hell, Goren! You've been looking at those photos for three days. There is nothing there. I've humored you long enough. This is a murder investigation not some jigsaw puzzle. Let's get out there and interact with suspects already!"

Not even looking up, Bobby growled, "So go already. Interview, intimidate or whatever the hell you pass off as investigative skills. I'm busy."

Out in the bullpen, Logan raised his head. He wanted to get up and join the dick waving contest as he had some specific thoughts to share, but Deakins had specifically told him to stay out of it. Goren and Samuelson were going to have to work it out on their own.

Samuelson leaned against the doorframe. "I guess I don't have to wonder why Eames put up with you as long as she did. There is only one reason a girl puts up with this much nonsense from a man."

Logan was on his feet and moving toward the door before Bobby reached him. Samuelson stepped his legs apart, and waited for Bobby to come at him. Bobby got to his face and froze, glaring at him. Logan wormed his way between them. "For God's sake, if you two can't respect each other, that's one thing, but have the good sense to respect the squad. We don't need a brawl in here. Kill each other on your own time."

Bobby didn't move. His eyes bore a hole right through Samuelson. There was something about the tall, broad detective with the kamikaze eyes that hit home for the older detective and he backed off. Logan had to stifle the urge to tell Samuelson just what he thought of his impatient ignorance. Instead he stood in front of the door blocking Bobby and giving Samuelson time to retreat to his desk.

"Bobby, there's certain kinds of individuals who won't tolerate anything they don't understand. Samuelson is one of those people and I'm another. Only difference is that I got enough smarts to be tolerant a hell of a lot more often than he is. He knows your solve rate is high, he just doesn't get why. It irritates him and thus inspires his stupidity."

"He's smart enough to know when he's about to take a beating," Bobby growled.

"Listen, you go back to what you were doing, and I'll go out on interviews with Samuelson."

"No."

Logan grinned. "Going to be a hardhead, huh?"

Bobby brushed past him, grabbed the notebook off his desk, and walked past Samuelson out the door. Samuelson saw this and looked to Logan for guidance. Logan pretended he didn't see this and walked in the other direction. Finally, Samuelson took a deep breath, grabbed his notebook, and trotted off after Bobby.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

She loved it in the early evening as the sun was falling in the sky. L.A. felt so much more manageable when the day slowed to a close. She curled up in the chaise with a blanket and her journal and opened it to the first page:

_This is for me and me only. I write what I want and follow no rules_.

With that she hesitated; she knew what her heart wanted, but it was what she had vowed she wouldn't do right now. She stared at the blank page for a while, frustrated, and then finally decided that no rules meant no rules. This journal would be something that was free of the restrictions she put on the rest of her life. With this in mind, she slowly put the pen to paper and wrote:

_Random Bobby Thoughts_

_The first time I felt how soft your beard was I got a chill down my spine._

_Speaking of soft, your voice is like 500 thread count soft. It's such a revelation in a man your size._

_When you hover over my shoulder at my computer, I was always annoyed until the day I smelled your cologne. Now I just relax and drink in your proximity when you're behind me._

_I only pretend I don't like it when you make coffee for me._

_I don't worry that you'll end up like your mother. Ever._

_I love watching you with kids. You're so sweet and funny. What an _

_amazing dad you would be._

_Every time I let out breath, I feel your absence in me. It's heavy and sad, and I am working as hard as I can to get back to you. Please wait for me._

_Bobby, I never told you that the reason I stopped caring about life when Jimmy had me was because I believed what he said about you being dead. I never really acknowledged the connection to this until I got here. Marianna says it's important. She says I have to want to live for me. I thought it would be easier than it is. I guess it is good to have space for reflection._

_Sometimes, I can't remember why exactly it's right to not be with you right now. I know what I tell everyone. I just don't know if it's right or not. Honestly, it doesn't feel right at all._

_The journal is a good idea with one exception: I physically ache with every word I write about you, and I wish…._

"Honey, do you want to see everything I got?"

Alex closed her book, wiped at the corner of her eyes, and sat up to greet her mother who came at her, arms laden with shopping bags of all sizes.

………………………………………………………………………………….

A beautiful brunette was looking at him from the bar, and he did his best to ignore her. Instead, he focused on the arroz con pollo on his plate and the wonderful Syrah he was drinking. This happened sometimes. His intensity seemed to act like a pheromone, and women would focus on him without ever hearing him speak. Most of the time, he enjoyed it, even took advantage of it, but tonight he was a man burdened with too many problems. He had a partner who was acting more obtuse than he was for the simple reason that he didn't like Goren. It had taken two days more to solve their latest case than it should have, and Bobby suspected that their days together were numbered. He worried that he would again end up in a revolving door pattern of partners. It had been that way for almost three years before he met Alex. On top of all of this, Deakins had temporarily assigned a newbie to Eames' desk. Goren had taken one look at this situation, gathered up his things, and went to work in interrogation. He wasn't about to work at his desk and look across at some idiot kid wearing a 'deer caught in headlight' look because he didn't understand how he got here.

The woman at the bar crossed her legs, and he saw a very shapely bare leg poking out from beneath her skirt. She smiled at him when he looked and he couldn't help but smile back. A part of him wondered if an evening with a stunner like this wouldn't be just the ticket to get himself back on track. It might also help him loosen the stranglehold Eames had on his heart. He felt resigned to the idea that he would never be the kind of man who could give Alexandra Eames the life she deserved.

His waitress was moving past him when he signaled her. "Could you get a glass of this Syrah for that lovely woman at the bar?"

She smiled down at him and nodded.

A few minutes later, the brunette was standing in front of him, the Syrah in hand. He gestured for her to sit and she did. "I'm Bobby Goren and you are…"

She smiled, "Mary Rose Murphy."

"Thank you for joining me."

She grinned. "I'm here on business. It's amazing how New York City can feel like a lonely place."

"You're West Coast?"

"Very good! I grew up here, but I've been out there for the last fifteen years."

Bobby felt a twinge of excitement at the knowledge she was only here for a few nights. There was less chance she would expect anything of him. "Tell me about your business."

And the next half hour was devoted to the ins and outs of public relations. He was a good listener and asked questions through a caramel flan they split between them and coffee. She asked about being a police detective, but he gave her only short, brusque replies. 1PP was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He came to the point of transition, and found that he wasn't as eager to continue the evening as he thought he would be. It wasn't anything about her. She was beautiful and smart and funny, but he kept imagining a petite woman with grey-green eyes and ash blonde hair frowning at him and he realized that a distraction was no longer just a distraction anymore. At one point, however, there was something about her face that changed his mind. He leaned toward her at the end of the evening, using his softest voice and said, "I have the most intriguing Zinfandel at home, and I have been waiting for someone to share it with. Would you be interested in another glass of wine?"

Her forehead wrinkled for a split second and he could see the indecision racing through her. "Um…that….sounds very tempting. However…I have an…early morning meeting."

He looked at his watch. "Mary Rose, it's only 8:30 and my apartment is only a block away. I can have you in a cab in an hour."

She blinked hard and let out a breath. "Well…I suppose that's too good to pass up."

With a smile, he got to his feet and gestured at the door. She got up slowly and followed. "Uh, Bobby, I really only have time for one drink."

He nodded at her. "No problem."

He was really quite a gentleman, opening doors, his hand on the small of her back, and chatting about L.A. like he himself lived there. She hesitated at his door, and he cocked his head at her. She flushed a little and he moved toward her, backing her into the wall. He placed his hands on the wall on either side of her face, effectively trapping her. He moved his face to within an inch of hers. Her breath caught and then he smiled and said, "Okay, Mister, how far do you want to take this?"

She blinked and sunk against the wall. "How did you know?"

He sighed and walked over to his door. "It took me longer than it should have. I really must be losing my touch." He turned to regard her. "I really do have a nice Zinfandel." And then he disappeared inside.

She followed slowly into an apartment with high ceilings; the walls filled with books from floor to ceiling, paintings garnering all remaining wall space. He came around a corner holding a wine glass toward her. "This doesn't seem like Alex's style."

Mister shook her head. "She has no idea. She'll probably kill me when she finds out."

Bobby sat down. "You followed me from work?"

"Yeah. So what was the tip-off?"

He shrugged. "Mary Eames showed me a photo album of Alex as a child, and you were in about 75 of the pictures. It took me awhile to recognize your eyes and nose."

"If you hadn't have figured it out, would you have slept with me?"

"Would you have let me? Look Mister, this is not a good test for me right now. I get the feeling that the best thing for me to do is move on, and I'm not above looking for opportunities to do that."

Mister put her glass down. "She is busting her butt to get back here in good shape. She wants to be strong for you. She is not moving on."

"Maybe it would be better for her if she did."

"Oh, Christ!" She stared at the ceiling. "You're worse than she is, and that's really saying something. You're both relationship impaired and I don't even know you. I do know that if you don't love her, you're an idiot. She doesn't give her heart easily, and she's extended it to you; you'd be a fool to walk away."

He stiffened visibly. "It's complicated."

"Everything is. You don't have the corner on complexity."

He drained the wine glass, and got up in search of more. "Tell me how she's doing, Mister."

"She goes to therapy every day. Other than that, she sits at my pool under layers of sunscreen, drinking orange juice, journaling, and looking out on the ocean. She won't shop; she won't sightsee. Once she let me take her down for a walk on the beach, but that's about it."

"She's still very sad," he murmured.

"She misses New York, she misses police work, and she misses you."

He put down his wine glass and disappeared into the kitchen. Seconds later, he returned with a tumbler of scotch. He sat down again. "Don't tell her you saw me."

She shook her head in disgust. "You can count on it, Bobby."

"I can't figure out the best thing to do."

Mary Rose got to her feet and reached for her coat. "She's special, and I was hoping that you were remarkable enough to understand that. I was hoping that this is what I would discover when I got here."

Bobby swallowed hard. "I do know. I do."

She stopped at the door. "Then maybe you should think about the real reason you're trying so hard to erase her." She was out the door before he even had a chance to respond.

……………………………………………………………………………..

It was deep in the night when Bobby woke. She was sitting in a chair across the room wearing that black suit with the red shirt that she wore the last time he was with her. It was unbuttoned down to her cleavage. She smiled at him and rested her face on a propped elbow. "I like watching you sleep. You're much easier to get along with when you're sleeping."

He raised his head and stared at her, trying to tease his dreams from reality.

"So you decided that it would be best if we weren't together." She continued to look at him with that enigmatic look she wore when she was ready to pounce.

He scrubbed his face and squinted at her. "Alex, you're not here. You're still in California."

She threw back her head and laughed. "I am wherever you want me to be."

"It's too intense. It's not good for you."

"Well, clearly you know what's best. I think we should go with this." She shrugged her suit coat off her shoulders.

"You've been through too much."

She pulled the tails of her shirt out of her pants. "You know, this thing we're doing, the pulling away, this happened for me when I realized I had nothing left to do but get better. I had to come to grips with the fact that soon I would have nothing to think of but how to make it work with you. When did it happen for you?"

"Alex…"

She unbuttoned her shirt. "It's hot in here."

He sat up, the sheet bunching at his waist. "Don't. Please."

"Honestly, it shouldn't matter to you. I mean, you are in control, aren't you?" She unbuttoned her pants and pushed them past her thighs.

"I'm not doing this because it's what I want! I don't know how to be the stable presence you need! Can you understand that?"

She stood, stepped out of her pants, and unhooked her bra. "Control is overrated, Bobby."

He sucked in breath.

Raspberry pink nipples burst forth and she came toward him. "I'm just a dream, Bobby. You don't have to feel guilty about a dream. Besides, if this is not what you want, you can merely turn me into Mister. Now she's a real looker and she's fresh in your mind; really more your type, wouldn't you say?"

Bobby stopped listening. When she was close enough, he grabbed her hips and pulled her onto his lap.

"That's right, Bobby. Dreams are free."

She tried to say more but he pulled her mouth to his. There was nothing gentle about his kiss because dreams are free, and he had waited so long. He rolled her beneath him, and he began to tease her breasts with his teeth. She moaned and lifted her hips to his. He smiled down at her. "Honey, you're so soft, you're so perfect."

"I'm not perfect in the way Mister is," she murmured when her mouth escaped his.

"You're my scrappy little blonde who sees everything but hides from nothing. You are so much more than long legs and a California smile. You're a real woman." He began to work on the nape of her neck. She stretched her throat long and sighed.

As he moved to enter her, she dug her short fingernails into his back and whispered into his hair. "The truth, Bobby, is that I'm too real and I know you too well. You pain gets reflected in my face like a mirror. My power is too great."

"Shhh, Honey. Let's just be here in this moment." He began a rhythm in and out, her legs wrapped tightly around his midsection.

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. He dropped back to his knees, and she rolled away from him. She sat up and looked at him, "There is no moment, Bobby. There is only a lifetime for you and I."

He rolled toward her. "Dreams are free."

She shook her head and slid off the bed. "Only until they bump against reality. Then they cost us everything."

"Please, Alex, wait." He reached after her, but she faded and was gone. He fell back on the bed, and slapped the sheets angrily. "Damn you, Eames. Damn you!"

……………………………………………………………………………

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

13

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Dick Wolf, Rene Balcer, and NBC, inc.

A/N: So I am sharing this with you because I can't quite figure if this is a fanfiction thing or something else. The number of hits I have had on this story has consistently been 450-650. For this last chapter, it was 65. Now that is a drop. I am thinking maybe the last chapter didn't work for people, but I think that would be reflected by lack of reviews more than lack of hits. I'm supposed to not care about this stuff, and I try not to, but I am stymied by it.

In any event, this chapter is in the realm of too much plot and too much skin. I apologize in advance for anything that might offend. Thanks to the 65 of you who are still with me. I love hearing from you.

Sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 18**

Bobby sat hunched over at the kitchen table next to the dead body. The techs knew Goren well enough to understand what he needed, and they left the kitchen with him for the moment. Even Logan gave him a wide berth although he would easily admit that dead bodies were never something he wanted too much of. Goren wore tension like an old suit tonight, and people knew it. The techs busied themselves in other parts of the house, and Barak, Logan, Deakins, and Carver settled themselves in the living room. The family was gone. They had been taken by officers fifteen minutes ago amid wails of a grieving wife, and the confused, frightened cries of three small children. Squads were going to rendezvous with FBI in Brooklyn who had a safehouse for the displaced family.

The conversation in the living room was almost nonexistent. Contained rage was taking everyone's energy, and they were all waiting for the inevitable explosion.

The first movement was Bobby who knelt next to the body again. He had stopped looking for clues that didn't exist. Instead, he seemed to be communing with the dead man. Finally, he sighed and stood up. He walked past them in the living room, and headed out the front door, his overcoat flapping against the door. Logan went to the window and looked out. Goren was standing under a street lamp, pacing back and forth, his hands bunched in fists. Logan turned and gestured at a tech in the hallway, "The body's all yours." Then he went back to sit down next to Barak on the couch.

Carver broke the silence. "This has gone past the point of reason. Now we have to postpone the trial so that we can investigate this latest atrocity. This will only give Ross more opportunity for mayhem. This is unacceptable."

Logan snorted, "Yeah, what you said except without the proper English."

"We gotta find out who Ross hired. There's got to be a way we can connect him." Deakins could barely sit still.

"I say we just kill him," Logan growled.

"I can't hear that and not do something about," responded Carver with some irritation.

"Knock yourself out, Counselor," Logan replied.

Barak stood up. "I'll start canvassing the neighborhood." Logan took her cue and followed her out the door. Bobby was still pacing under the streetlight, but neither approached him; they knew to give him plenty of space.

It was just the day previous that the corpse was a man walking into the squadroom. Many recognized him but no one greeted him. It was incumbent on him to stand in front of Goren's desk and ask for a few minutes of his time. It was difficult for Bobby to hide his distaste for the man who was Jimmy Ross's lawyer. He stood up tall before the man, his eyes hard, and the man took a step back and stammered. "Ah, we should probably include your captain in this, and Ron Carver is on his way down."

Bobby did nothing more than gesture at his boss's office and follow the man inside. Carver walked in just as they were getting seated. He started things. "This is highly irregular, but you said it was urgent so what can we do for you, Mr. Bloom?"

Bloom took a deep breath. "Mr. Ross is no longer my client. He fired me yesterday afternoon."

Carver's eyebrows rose. "Interesting."

"I have gone over this for three days even while I was retained. Ross is still a client at my firm; my partner took over, and I am pretty sure I am on shaky legal ground with what I am about to tell you."

Bloom looked down at the floor for a moment. "I am pretty sure I'll be fired and brought before the bar association, but I have three small children whom I love deeply, and I would prefer these outcomes to spending the next ten to fifteen years in jail."

The air was electric with tension. No one spoke as if fearing a disruption might derail the man's confession.

"As you know, Ron, as Ross's criminal attorney, I was given charge of the release of his assets. He would tell me what he needed and I would sign the checks and send them out."

Carver nodded.

"A week ago, he requested that a check be cut for an individual for $25,000. I asked him for details, but he was sketchy at best. I have discretion in my role to refuse especially if I have concern that the money will be used in the commission of a crime. I had no such evidence of such, but I was wary. We are all aware of Ross's instability. Anyway, I did background on the person receiving the check, and found nothing of interest. She's a waitress in the Bronx so I let the check pass."

Bobby interrupted. "You didn't know what it was for."

"Technically, I have to have grounds before I can refuse a request and I had none. A couple of days after the check was sent out, I got a phone call from her. She was frantic. She said that Jimmy promised cash. She said she couldn't cash the check. I didn't understand the problem, but she insisted that I put together cash for her, and that her boyfriend would come pick it up. Naturally, I found this to be unacceptable. I talked to Jimmy who became quite escalated, insisting that I convert cash immediately for her. I told him I needed to investigate the situation further. That's when he fired me and called my partner. This morning I saw an associate leave the office with a large amount of cash, he was counting it in his office when I walked in. I went to my partner, but he says that Jimmy wants me to have no further information about the case. I told my partner my suspicions, but he told me that there was no compelling reason to refuse his request and that our role was not to investigate our clients."

"You have suspicions about what he might be paying this woman to do?" Deakins leaned forward.

"After my conversation with my partner, I called a friend at Riker's Island." He looked at Goren. "Yes, detective, I do have friends in law enforcement. I asked him to check to see if this woman was a visitor for anyone there. He called me back and said she was a weekly visitor for someone named Brent Tucci. He told me that Tucci was in for two murders in the Bronx and a suspect in three others. He said that Tucci had mob ties. It was enough. I came straight here. I think Ross ordered a hit, and with the antipathy he has toward Detective Eames, I can only conjecture that it is for her."

Bobby was on his feet, and Deakins winced as he imagined the big detective punching through the glass in his office, but the detective restrained himself.

Bloom looked up at him. "I should have gone to my partner first; that's how the bar will see it and that's how the partners in my firm will see it, but I know Ross better than they do. I also know we would sit on it for days exploring legal precedent and we would be legally right to do that. I know it's hard for some people to understand why I defend people like Jimmy Ross, but I am not a bad man, and I will not be even remotely associated with a murder, and my gut tells me that's what we're talking about here."

Carver let out breath. "David, I understand better than anyone here the risks you're taking, and I applaud your actions. It is most certain that you would have been able to make a case for sitting on this information. It is with great character that you come forward. I will not forget this, and will do what I can to support you in any charges that might come your way."

Deakins strode to the door and yelled, "Logan! Barak! Get in here!" He ushered them in and gave a quick rundown. "You two need to go visit Tucci. Goren, you have the waitress. Carver and I will take the partners. Bloom, you coming with us?"

Bobby stopped his pacing outside the Bloom house. Yesterday seemed so long ago. They had interviewed everyone; Bobby himself had the waitress in interrogation for four hours until he was satisfied that she was nothing more than the messenger. She had dropped the money at an address, but hadn't met anyone. It was gone by the time Bobby got there, but he put uniforms on it anyway.

They spent that day and most of the evening hitting walls on every lead they tried. Today had been no different. Someone from Tucci's mob family probably had the hit, but they couldn't get a handle on who the money went to. Bloom had called Bobby not three hours earlier to get an update on the investigation. Bloom was home with his family. He didn't sound like a man who had just been fired. Instead he sounded like a man who was feeling good about himself for the first time in a very long time. The next Bobby heard from that house was the 7th precinct calling to let them know that a man had rung the doorbell, walked past the wife, and cornered David Bloom in the kitchen. He shot him three times in front of his kids and then turned around and walked out. As it was with most traumatic events, Bloom's wife was unable to give much of a description and his children weren't able to say much at all, but would spend their rest of their lives trying to make sense of this moment.

More and more it felt like Jimmy couldn't be stopped by prison or anything else. It wasn't a question of prosecution. The evidence would pile up to the ceiling. Jimmy Ross wasn't ever going to leave a jail cell. It was that he would use the trial and his resulting sentence to continue to lash out at the people who put him there. There would be measures that would help; freezing his assets, solitary confinement, but it was the fact that he continued to destroy people's lives unhindered that tore at Bobby's rage.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned around, blinking. Barak was there. "Bobby, we're working on the canvas. I could use some help with the north side of the street."

He nodded once.

"Bobby, he's going down and we have restrictions in place. Soon he'll be just a memory."

He snorted. "Yeah, and we'll be the Keystone Cops who couldn't stop him from killing even after he was incarcerated."

"He's erratic, unpredictable. We had no reason to believe that the hit would be on Bloom."

Bobby shook his head. "This is only one of the hits he has planned. They were paid for more than one hit."

"Alex is out of harm's way."

He nodded. "For now she is."

"You would be somebody Ross would want to get rid of. Have you thought of that? Are you being careful?"

He looked at her. "I'm not at the top of his list and he can't go after everyone. You said the north side right? I'll take it until the end of the block and then we'll compare notes. Okay?"

……………………………………………………………………………..

The canvas, talking to witnesses, and hunting down Tucci's gang took the whole night. It was 8 a.m. before they got back to the squad looking worn and irritable. Deakins told them they were to brief day shift and go home for at least 6 hours of sleep. He gave Bobby a hard look and they all knew he would go to the mat on this one. Logan and Barak took his cue immediately, and headed for home.

Bobby fell into the chair at his desk, and reached for his notes. He needed to update while everything was still fresh in his mind. His eye caught a glimpse of red, and he looked across his desk to hers and saw a red scarf hanging on her chair. It was a very familiar red scarf. His eyes darted about the room, but he didn't see her. He got up and circled around the desk to pick it up. He tried to imagine the circumstances under which the scarf would have ended up here. He breathed it in, and the smell of her floated through the soft wool.

A familiar chuckle sounded. "I didn't know you were so into winter accessories."

He whirled around to find her walking toward him from across the room. "Eames!"

Heads went up around the room. Deakins came out of his office.

She smiled warmly. In fact everything about her was warm. Her hair was blonder, her skin smoothly tan, and that familiar look of cool conviction had returned to her face.

"What are you doing here?" Bobby couldn't seem to control the tenor of his voice.

"I didn't move there permanently, you know. It's been six weeks. We did some good work, and I've had so much rest I could go crazy. So I'm back. We have a trial next week. I have to prep."

"You didn't call! When did you get back?"

She was startled by his tone. "I got back yesterday."

He closed his eyes. "My God! Did you sleep in your apartment?"

She nodded. "Uh, yeah. I suppose I should have called, but I was just taking it slow."

Bobby turned to Deakins. "I never took into account the fact that she might be coming back this week."

"Its okay, Bobby. Nothing happened. She's fine."

Hurt and confusion reflected on her face. "I don't understand what's going on."

He put a hand up and backed up. "I need a minute." With that, he turned and headed for the stairs.

Deakins gestured to her. "Come in. I have a lot to tell you about."

……………………………………………………………

She found him in a room setting up the evidence from the Bloom household; he was planning to camp out. He looked up at her and winced, "I shouldn't have been so hard on you."

She nodded. "The captain gave me some perspective. You've been through a lot. I'm sorry."

"There's not going to be a trial for awhile. Carver's getting it postponed. You should go back to California. Take your time. Sit in the sun some more."

"Wow! That was classic. I didn't realize you were such a master of the brush off."

He frowned. "I wasn't trying---"

"Enough. You're tired. I told the captain I would take you home."

"You're not going back to your apartment. You're staying….with me, I suppose, until we find some place safe."

She shook her head, chuckling. "Well, with an invitation like that, how can I say no? I suspect we're moving on to the part where you tell me that you have to save me from you. Jimmy's got a contract out on my life and you have one on my heart."

"Alex—"

"Uh-uh, let's get you home first. We're not having this conversation here."

…………………………………………………

She climbed into bed with him, and Bobby thought he was going to explode. He had made every effort to politely indicate that they give each other space, and then she explicitly ignored him and climbed into his bed.

"I need to sleep," he warned her.

"That's a good plan. Captain has the shift rounding up people from Tucci's gang. We're going to let them sweat a few hours in lock-up. By my calculations, that gives us ten hours. Figured that would give us a little time to catch up."

"I've had a lot of time to think," he said.

"I know. You added it up; erratic Bobby plus delicate Alex does not equal happiness. In fact, delicate Alex will get hurt. And since you're a genius and geniuses are always right, I should just agree with you, right?"

"Yes, well, erratic Bobby is not just thinking about delicate Alex. I don't want to get hurt either. We'll talk to Barak later. It's probably best if you stay with her." His sarcasm cut more than she imagined it could. He rolled away from her.

She sat up and slapped him on the arm. "Hey, small child! Don't turn away from me. Once again, you think that your decision is the only one that counts. I want to show you something. Turn around, Bobby. Don't look away from me!"

He turned toward her reluctantly. She pulled off her shirt and he winced. "Look Bobby, the bruises are gone. My ribs are not showing. I know who I am again. I know what I want. There is no more delicate Alex."

"Please, put your shirt back on. Leave me alone." There was a desperate edge to his voice.

"You started this, Goren. If you want to end it, then end it honestly. Look me in the eye." She reached over and pulled his face toward hers. "I'm steady, Bobby. I got wounds inside, but they don't own me anymore. I'm strong."

"When you needed me most, I wasn't good for you." His words came out in a whisper.

"It was intense. You were dealing with your own hurt. I needed space to breath. This wasn't about bad or good. This was about a moment in time when we both needed perspective. Now I have mine, and you are choosing to run. I should have known this would happen." She made no move to put her shirt on. She was wearing a simple white cotton bra. It was sheer, but she wasn't apologetic about that or the fact that it was a bra built for utility rather than sex appeal.

"It doesn't feel safe for either one of us." He couldn't take his eyes off her.

She shook her head. "The die is cast, Bobby. Wrenching you from me creates a hole that I couldn't begin to fill. I thought it would be the same for you."

He didn't say anything, and she looked away. Her body shook and he could tell she was trying to stifle tears. He reached out to touch her, and she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me, Bobby. Don't sit there like a fucking statue and try to comfort me. You're the one that needs it more than I do."

He sat up. "I get scared. You're so powerful in me. You need stability and I can be…unstable. And then I didn't know if you would even come back."

"Mister says we're both idiots, and she's right, you know."

"I met Mister."

She snorted through the tears. "I know you did. She confessed everything. It gave me some inkling of what to expect when I got back here. I just wanted to be better first, and that's how I feel now…I feel better, Bobby."

"What if—"

She leaned over and pushed him hard in the chest. "What if! What if! What if! Life is full of what ifs, Bobby. What if you get shot tomorrow? What if I get hit by a car? What if we get old and realize that we blew our chance at something amazing? I wonder what that kind of regret feels like."

Bobby steadied himself and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to him and held her tightly. In her ear, he whispered, "What if I find out that I'm not right for you. Can you imagine what that kind of disappointment would feel like?"

She breathed into his t-shirt. "What do your instincts tell you? What does this feel like to you? Does this feel wrong?"

He nuzzled his face into her neck and didn't speak.

She found the edges of his t-shirt and slid her hands underneath. Slowly she pulled it up his chest. She found a nipple and teased it with her teeth. He groaned deeply. "Alex…"

"Tell me to stop, Bobby. Tell me this doesn't feel right."

His big hands found hers and he tried to pull away. He trapped her hands behind her back and she looked up at him fiercely. "I'm ready, Bobby. I'm ready for everything. I'm ready for you."

His eyes were deep and soft. "I love you, Eames, and it scares the shit out of me. I've never made room for these sorts of feelings before."

She smiled. "We tell each other everything, Bobby, and it'll be okay. I promise you."

He hugged her tightly. "I missed you."

"Yeah, me too. Wanna know what I thought about while I was gone?"

He cocked his head. "Tell me."

"I thought about this." Her hands went to his chest again, running her fingers through curly hair. "I thought about this." She reached up and teased his earlobe with her teeth. "And I thought about this." Her cheek slid along his until her mouth found his. She leaned back, her arms around his neck, and let him fall on top of her into the sheets. She was happy to find he was responding to her as eagerly as she was to him. His hand burrowed under her back and snapped open her bra. She tangled with the straps for a few minutes while he found her nipples, teasing and caressing them until she moaned her pleasure, arching her back for him.

Hands fumbled and tore at clothes, she more than he. She could feel his continued hesitation. Six weeks of dreaming about the man did little for her patience. She tugged at his boxers and he groaned. "Eames, you're killing me here."

"Then get with the program, Goren," she hissed into his ear. "When I said I'm ready for everything I meant it."

He pulled away and stared down at her. "We can wait, Honey."

She shook her head. "No, we can't. I can't. I'm ready."

He sighed. "Alex, I'm no small man."

She grinned. "I know. I was sort of counting on it."

His eyes widened. "Eames!"

She rolled away from him and crawled toward his night table. "You better be stocked for this or someone's running down to the bodega and it's not going to be me."

He couldn't resist tackling her playfully and flipping her over. His big hands covered hers and he stared down at her. She struggled beneath him, but he held her firmly. "I just want to see you like this for a moment. So pretty. So naughty. So…strong. God, I've missed you."

She freed a hand and hooked him around the neck, pulling his face to hers. She kissed him deeply and then broke away. "Bobby, look at me." She grabbed his chin with her hand. "Get…condom…now."

He laughed at her and reached a long arm past her to open the drawer. He pulled a condom out and rolled away from her. She attempted to assist, but he growled at her, and she knew his erection would never survive her touch. He crawled back, reaching down to capture her mouth with his, and lowered himself into her. She reached her hips to meet his and together, they negotiated their most intimate dance ever.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Logan looked over the gathered thugs crammed into the holding cell. They looked back at him with expressions of annoyance and indifference. He was going to spend the next few hours pushing them, and he didn't expect he'd get anywhere. These guys had been in and out of interrogation rooms since they were 14-15 years old. One of them leaned against the bars of the holding cell. "Come on, Logan. I'm growing old in here. Cut me a friggin' break!"

Another voice rose from behind him. "I got Nicks tickets for tonight. Courtside for chris' sakes!"

Logan grinned. "You offering 'em to me? 'Cause I'm not above accepting a bribe, you know."

"Your mama, Logan. That's who I'm taking, you prick!"

"Aw jeez, guys, now my feelings are hurt. I'm going to have to go compose myself before we can continue."

"Logan, you jerk off, you walk out of here, and I swear on my sainted dead mother's—"

He closed the door on that last threat. Deakins was standing there, his arms folded. "There was some logic to all that?"

Logan grinned. "Just feeding the animals, Captain."

Barak came trotting up. "Still no sign of Paulie Sirico, and we've been everywhere."

Mike shook his head. "That's not good. Task force says he's the biggest wage earner in the family. They got him suspected in three different murders."

"He's our guy," Carolyn said.

"Now we got to find him."

…………………………………………………………………………….

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

18

Disclaimer: These characters are the property of Dick Wolf, Rene Balcer, and NBC, inc.

A/N: This is the last chapter. It took a while because I wanted it just right. And I'm sorry to be finished. I have the germ of an idea for another fic, but it will be something of a wait before I have time to execute it. I want to give homage to a fic I found while writing this called Quietly by Netherfeld. Most of you have already read it. If you haven't, go find it. It is really good. I took some inspiration from it. Thanks for sticking with me for 19 chapters almost 76,000 words. Wow! Take care and let me know if you enjoyed it.

sheila

**Control**

**Chapter 19**

Logan circled around Vinny Russo again, always the look of a predator in his eyes. Barek figured that at least half of his confessions came from that look alone. Vinny Russo looked nothing more than supremely pissed. "You screwed my evening with my kid. We had courtside seats, you prick!"

"Sorry, Vinnie, Barek and I were busy reading up on you. You're talking about your oldest, aren't you? That would Vinnie Jr., correct?"

The man glared. "What! You writing a book?"

"Vinnie J is what you call him, I think. 15 years old. Good grades. Goes to church every week. You got plans for this kid, don't you?"

The man looked away.

"I know you got plans for this kid. There are two types of mafia dads. There are those who introduce their kids to the life young, and there are those who will do anything to keep their kids straight. I'm banking you're the second type."

He rolled his eyes. "You pull me down here for a parenting class or what?"

Barek leaned forward. "Look at this. FBI caught this on camera three weeks ago. Nice picture of Vinnie J. fencing stolen goods out of the trunk of your Lincoln. Kid's a little young to be driving, don't you think?"

Vinnie seized the picture. "Leave my kid alone."

Barek shook her head. "See, they were going to hang onto it. Said they were hoping they could use it some day, but I got a friend and I thought, let's give Vinnie a chance to put his kid back on the right track. I mean, clearly you didn't know about this 'cause you would never let him be so clumsy about it. Look how he's right out on a busy street."

"What are you going to do with this?"

Logan shrugged. "On this alone, the kid could get a year in Spofford. Sounds like a good training ground for an aspiring thug, doesn't it? I hear Vinnie J is something of a math whiz. I hope he keeps up with his studies with all those other kids who can barely spell their names."

"What do you want?" The man looked like he was going to cry.

Logan dropped his hands on the table in front of Vinnie. "Tell us what you know about the hits. Tell us what you know about Paulie Sirico."

Vinnie shook his head. "I don't know nothing. I mean, what do you think? We keep a website up with daily blogs on all our innermost thoughts? Paulie's not going to broadcast his whereabouts, especially now that he knows you're looking for him."

"Yeah, but Vinnie, you know something. You know something we can use because the alternative is that Vinnie J. goes into lockup."

"And you think we're the bad guys," he said, eyes narrow.

"Vinnie, nobody's going to know it was you. Come on. We're interviewing each one of you separately." Barek said softly.

"My kid gets a walk."

Logan nodded. "I'll arrange it, but you better put parenting back on the top of your agenda, and when I mean parenting, I'm saying that beating the hell outta your kid doesn't qualify. I'll be watching for that."

Vinnie Russo sighed. "Here's what I know. There were originally supposed to be two hits."

Logan's eyebrows rose. "Two hits! Come on, Vinnie, you gotta know who. We know one of them is Detective Eames. We have to know who the other one is."

His face screwed up. "Who's Eames?"

"The detective that Ross hired Sirico to kill."

"Is he a big guy?"

Barek frowned. "Eames is a woman."

"Uh-uh, Sirico didn't get no contract on a female. We don't do that kind of work if we can help it."

Logan looked at Barek for a moment before responding to Russo. "Who, Vinnie? Who?"

Vinnie let out a deep breath. "You ask me to testify and I'm denying it. Swear to God!"

Logan slammed a fist on the table. "Who!"

"All right! Some ADA name of Carver and a detective name of Goren."

Logan looked puzzled and he turned to Barek who nodded and said. "It makes sense, Mike. He wants her alive and at the trial. Everything is about her reaction to him. He's trying to take away the two people who can protect her most. This is still about destroying her, but it's about taking away her security first. I'm sure he sees Goren and Carver as the most outward signs of that."

Vinnie spoke. "I got another tidbit for you just so you don't blame me for this if anything happens. His lawyer, Bloom, was a last minute addition. Ross was really pissed at the guy. Paulie did him first. Here's the issue. Ross only paid for two hits, and now Paulie's gotta do three. We ain't no discount center. Ross owes us money, 20 g's, only he's not coughing up. This is a problem. Ross had a deadline and it passed. We gotta send a message. We can't let the guys in Rikers think they can get away with that kind of bull."

"You're going to whack Jimmy Ross?" Logan said.

Vinnie shrugged his shoulders. "I've said enough. Besides I'm sitting here with you guys. I ain't out there killing anybody."

Logan took Barek by the arm and steered her to the door speaking quietly. "We got to warn people."

"Yeah, you get Goren and Carver. I'll take care of Ross."

He squeezed her arm and hissed. "No way! We take care of our own today. I get Carver and you get Goren. We'll look out for Jimmy when we have time."

"But—"

"This man put snakes in your bed. He has killed two people, has tried to kill two more including you, and now he has a contract on two more people. We worry about him last, dead last. You understand me!"

She backed away. "This is a dangerous road, Mike."

"I'm willing to walk it alone."

"We're partners."

"Let's take care of Goren and Carver and then we'll talk, okay?"

She hesitated and then nodded slowly. He let go of her arm and took her hand. "I carry the weight on this. Okay? This is my thing."

She shook her head as if trying to loosen something and slipped out of his grip. "I got to call Bobby." Then she walked away, unable to meet her partner's eyes.

……………………………………………………………………….

He looked so peaceful when he slept. His face was clear of all the work and worry it carried during the day. She had slipped out from under his big arm, and snagged his t-shirt from the foot of his bed. She didn't know how he liked his women when he woke, but she had no interest in being one of those women who could be casual about their nudity. She was aware from experience that men loved small women parading around in their shirts. She slipped it over her head, and it draped past her thighs. Then she curled up on the bed again, watching him sleep.

Making love to him had been a revelation. She knew he would be gentle as he had that big man understanding of his size and how to temper it. Instead of the awkwardness she had anticipated, the two of them found a rhythm quickly and she felt surprisingly safe sharing intimacy with him. He seemed to know what she wanted, and she found that it was easy to anticipate his needs as well.

There is always that moment when the passion is spent and you're laying next to a man and you suddenly realize for the first time that you're naked and he is someone with whom you have a professional relationship, and now you're not just colleagues, but naked ones who have just said and done incredibly intimate things together.

She waited for that moment with him, but it never came. He lay next to her in the light of late morning and talked about everything as if the most natural thing in the world. She searched for the signs of panic or hesitation in his eyes, but there was none there. He seemed to sense her thoughts though because he stroked the hair away from her hair and whispered, "I feel like I've come home, Eames. I really do."

Her eyes stung for a moment, and she figured it wasn't the best time to talk to him about using her first name, and so she just smiled and leaned in to kiss him.

She was reliving those moments when she heard a sharp sound at the door; then there was an insistent scratching. She sat up and listened more carefully. This was not the sound of a rodent; this was the systematic sound of someone working on Bobby's door. She reached over and shook him. "Bobby! Bobby, wake up!"

He moaned and squinted at her. "What time is it? Did Deakins call?"

She put a hand over his mouth. "Someone's trying to get into your apartment."

He sat up, his hair flat against one side of his head. The sound was clear now, and Alex could sense that he was almost in. "He must think you're not here. It's the middle of the day. He's going to come in and wait for you."

Bobby was on the floor pulling his pants up, and searching for his gun. Alex knew her gun was in the living room, and she wondered if she could get to it before he caught her. There was a sharp clang and she heard the front door swing open. Bobby turned to her and whispered. "Get in the closet now."

"We do this together," she hissed.

"No, you have no gun. We don't have time for this. Go!"

She scrambled off the bed, his t-shirt billowing around her, and stepped into the closet. She saw Bobby slip out of the bedroom. It was all she could do to keep from following him. She was a better shot, but she also had better reaction times. She cursed herself for leaving it in the living room although it would have looked odd to bring into the bedroom when her only purpose for being there had been to bed her partner. His phone started ringing on the bed stand, and she cursed its distraction.

She jerked when she heard a shout and then two shots. There were sounds of feet pounding the floor and more shouting. She felt around the closet, and realized she had propped herself against a golf bag. She had no time to wonder when Bobby ever found time to get to a golf course. Instead she stood up and felt around for the two heaviest clubs. Armed with them, she snuck out of the closet. She could tell that they were both still moving outside the bedroom, and she had no idea how she would contribute with a nine iron, but it was impossible to just crouch and wait for the whole thing to be over.

She heard a crash and Bobby howled in pain. Without thinking, she burst out into the hallway and ran toward the living room. Bobby was sprawled over a fallen lamp, and a man was standing across the room pointing his weapon. Neither had time to process the small woman rushing at them like a crazed caddy. The man turned to point his weapon at her, but Bobby swung the fallen lamp into his knees and he doubled over. Alex was there with both clubs, swinging them into the back of his skull. He groaned and toppled over. Bobby scrambled over and pulled the weapon out of his hands, throwing it toward her. "Cuffs!"

Alex found her bag, dug them out, and threw them toward him. The phone in her bag lit up and she picked it up. She listened for a moment and then said, "Well, that ship has sailed. We're going to need back up here right away. You got an address?"

She hung up and saw Bobby looking at her in confusion. She smiled, "That was Carolyn warning us that there's a contract out on you."

He was still sitting on the cuffed man when he looked at her and chuckled. "I live four blocks away from the precinct. You have about two minutes before you're going to have to explain what you're doing in my living room with nothing on but my t-shirt." The man under Bobby heard this and raised his head to look. Bobby slapped the back of his head and growled at him to stay down.

She looked down at her attire, and her eyes widened. She quickly turned and disappeared down the hallway.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

Technically, Eames hadn't been cleared for duty, but no one was saying anything to her about it and so she made like a detective in the squad, settling into her desk, her gun strapped to her side.

Paulie Sirico was on his way to the hospital with a concussion and a bad knee. Carver was there quizzing Logan and Barek about their interview with Russo. The man had his family to think about, and he wanted confirmation that there wasn't another man out there waiting to walk into his house like Sirico had done to Bloom.

"Sirico was it as far as Russo was concerned, and Russo was giving us what he knew," Mike reassured him for the third time.

Deakins leaned in. "Were they able to get Ross out of the general population?"

Barek looked at Logan and neither responded.

"Come on, guys. We've known about the threat to Ross for three hours. Tell me that somebody called Rikers."

"We were so caught up in warning Bobby and Carver," Barek began.

Logan waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I took care of it. He should be safe."

Everyone caught the surprised look that Barek gave him.

"I realize it's tempting to let the weasel fend for himself, but we're better than that."

"Don't worry, Captain. I took care of it." Logan sat with a look of perfect calm on his face.

The phone rang from Deakins' office. He let it ring for a moment while he looked at Logan warily, and then he jumped up to get it.

Bobby narrowed his eyes. "Logan, tell us. Do we need to get on the phone to Rikers or did you take care of it?"

"Please, Bobby, don't tell me you would lift a finger for that mope."

Carver squeezed his eyes shut. "Why am I hearing all of this? Please, someone, pick up the phone and call Rikers!"

Deakins appeared in the doorway. "It's too late. Ross got stuck with a knife fifteen minutes ago. He was still in the general population. They're working on him, but we better get down there just in case."

"Yeah, I'll say a prayer."

Deakins pointed at him. "Knock it off, Logan! Someone asks the right questions, and we got a big problem on our hands. I can't protect you from this."

"No problem, Captain." Logan grabbed his coat and was the first one to the door.

………………………………………………………………………

Carolyn waited until Logan got in the car and then drove off, startling Carver and Deakins who had also hoped to ride along.

Logan craned his neck, looking back. "Uh, you forgot the boss."

"It was a misunderstanding, okay. I thought you were going to call and you thought I was going to call."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are we matching stories here?"

"You just tell the captain that we got mixed up. Tell him you didn't want to bust me in front of everyone. Just say that you thought I was going to make the call, and I'll say that I thought you would, and everyone will understand that it was a simple mistake."

"Yeah, but that's not what happened."

"'Cause you want to get busted for this? Come on, Mike! I thought you wanted to be at Major Case. Don't screw it up in the first six months."

"So you think I'm lying too."

She sighed deeply. "I didn't say that. We talked about this. You were not crazy about watching out for him. Then Carver asks you and you don't say anything. What am I supposed to think?"

"I'm a lot of things, Barek, but a liar isn't one of them. I said I took care of it and I did. I don't know why he was still in the general population. But I'll tell you one thing: I'm hoping he got stuck good. I would love for this particular problem to go away."

"Knock it off. This is the last thing you want to be caught saying if this thing blows up."

"Carolyn—"

One eye on the road, she pointed a finger in his direction. "You're going to you're your big mouth shut in there. Promise me or I swear to God I'm going to push you out of the car at the next street corner."

Logan grinned. "Hey Cookie, it's nice how you look after me, but seriously—"

She swerved the car violently over to the curb and ground it to a stop. She swiveled in her seat and jabbed her finger into his chest. "Promise me!"

"Okay! I won't say anything."

She glared at him a minute more before shifting the car back into drive.

……………………………………………………………

It became immediately clear that the staff at Riker's Island were having an usually bad day. Guards they had known for years gave them nothing but curt nods and waved them through. The hallway to the infirmary was littered with guards and bloody prisoners. The six of them shouldered past this as best they could. A large nurse looked at them, hands on her hips. "Unless, you have a medical degree, you got no business here. We're up to our elbows in cuts and breaks."

"Hi Rose." Logan stepped forward. "We gotta see how Ross is doing."

"Ross? Oh, yes the fool who offered me $100,000 to triage him at the top. Too bad the good Lord gave me a nasty conscience otherwise I could be planning a nice retirement in the motherland." The lilt of her accent suggested someplace Caribbean.

"Is he bad?"

She shrugged. "Hard to tell. There was a riot in the cafeteria. He came in after most of these guys. We're still assessing, but he got a blade in the right side of his chest so it could be anything."

"We do need someone to see him as soon as possible," Carver said.

She rolled her eyes. "Sure thing. Let me ring the thoracic surgeons playing poker in the next room. He'll get attention according to the order in which he was triaged. If you want to give it a shot and crack his chest yourself, he's that way." She pointed and then turned on her heel and headed back to a group of inmates lined up against the wall.

Deakins led the way, moving past men moaning on gurneys until they found Ross at the end lying curled up on a stretcher. He glared at them and hissed, "Do something."

Carver looked at him with a stone face. "Help is coming. The doctor will get to you soon."

"No! I'll die if I have to wait." He groaned at the effort of his words.

Goren frowned. "They have extra people coming in. There's nothing else we can do, but we won't leave until someone sees you."

Ross ignored him as his eyes had settled on a face next to Goren. "It's been awhile, Alex."

She didn't respond.

"Did you come to see what you've done to me? Is it satisfying to you?"

Bobby stepped in front of her protectively. "That's enough."

"Move! I want to see her. I want her to know that I'm still stronger than she is."

Bobby didn't budge until Alex pushed him to the side. She walked toward him. "Hi Jimmy. Looks like you're still confusing being strong with being just plain mean."

Jimmy squirmed and licked his lips as pain rumbled through him. "If I die today, it will be on your head, Alex."

She threw back her head and laughed. "Don't do me any favors, Jimmy."

"You tricked Lisa into saving your life."

"No, I didn't. She had a heart, she couldn't hurt me, but you wouldn't know anything about that now, would you?"

He was seized by pain again and groaned loudly, rocking back and forth on the gurney. Through clenched teeth, he said, "My life was fine until I met you. I was successful and well respected, and you've reduced me to nothing more than a common criminal."

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Jimmy."

"This is payback, right? You watch me die and it makes us even from when you lay on the floor of my basement, and begged for your life."

Alex stopped breathing and backed up a step. Barek placed hands on her shoulders. "Hey, Alex, you don't have to listen to this. It's okay." She began to gently pull her away from Ross.

Bobby nodded at Barek, grateful for her help. He leaned in toward Jimmy and spoke in a surprisingly soft voice. "You can't hurt her anymore. Save your energy. You're going to need it."

Jimmy coughed and a trail of blood rolled down his chin. He saw it when it dropped onto the sheet and he screamed. "Alex! Alex! Please help me!"

Alex pulled away from Carolyn and came toward him again, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. He saw her face and grabbed at her hand. "Please! I'll confess. I'll say exactly what happened. I'll tell them everything I did. I'll tell them how badly I hurt you. Please! Just get me some help!"

She pulled away from his hand and turned to her colleagues. Mike turned and trotted back to the front of the infirmary. He reached for her again, but Bobby was there gently pulling his hand away and putting it back onto the gurney.

He was sobbing now. "I'll tell them everything! Don't let me die!"

She looked at Bobby and then back at him. "I don't have any control over this. I can't help you."

"Please! Everything happened as you said. I'll tell them everything!"

"Okay, that's good, Jimmy. You need to do that. Confession is good for the soul. Logan went to get a doctor. Just…uh, hold on."

He raised his head and looked into her face, and then dropped back onto the gurney, sobbing into the sheet. "I can see it in your face. You're not going to help me. You don't want to; you want to watch me die."

"No," she whispered. She didn't pull away when Bobby put his arm around her protectively.

"You're just like me, Alex," he sobbed. "You're no better. If I die, it will be murder and you'll be my killer." His body shuddered and his eyes closed; his sobs growing softer.

Alex turned toward Bobby and buried her face in his lapel. He held her tightly. Carver came forward. "Don't talk anymore, Jimmy. Just stay quiet. The doctor's coming."

Carolyn turned her head and saw Logan coming toward them, pulling a doctor by his arm. The man pulled a stethoscope out of a pocket and clamped them on his ears before Logan even got him there. Clearly, working in Riker's infirmary left staff with some flexible coping skills. He didn't even bristle at Logan's approach. He just pushed past him and turned the patient on his back. He felt for heart sounds, and then turned and yelled for a crash cart. Bobby herded all of them into a corner, and they watched as what few personnel available came running. Defibrillator paddles appeared and a nurse put gel on them, and handed them to the doctor. The first shock startled Alex as his body arched off the table. The doctor watched the screen, and his heart rate continued to flat line. He called for another one and then another. Only a few minutes after he arrived, he was calling a time of death. A nurse came with a sheet and covered Jimmy Ross from head to toe. Alex Eames shivered violently, unaware of the long arms rocking her gently.

………………………………………………………………………..

The infirmary was understaffed and understocked, but they had a hell of a nice waiting room attached: couches, carpets, pictures and everything. A plaque near the door identified it as a gift from the Dolly Fiterman foundation. How Dolly decided to reach in and create this little piece of heaven in the middle of the world's largest holding cell was anyone's guess. They all sat silently in overstuffed chairs looking at everything but each other. There was no reason to still be there, but there was so much left to process that no one could bring themselves to leave. Finally Logan couldn't stand it anymore. "What are we supposed to be feeling here? I can't figure it out. I feel sick, but I don't feel sad."

Deakins shot him a look. "You should feel sick. What the hell am I going to say to the lawyer when he asks me why we sat on this threat long enough for Ross to get stabbed?"

"I already told you I took care of it."

"We don't kill people, Logan. We defend them, and God help us, sometimes we defend ourselves from them, but we never kill them."

Carolyn looked up. "Captain, he says he took care of it."

"And what the hell does that mean?" Did you call a buddy on the unit and ask him to divert a couple of guards so it would be easier for Russo's men to get at Ross?"

"Captain! I think this conversation should cease. We should not be talking about this amongst ourselves in case we are called on to testify." Carver was uncharacteristically uninterested in details.

Bobby leaned forward. "Mike, you said you took care of it. I take that at face value. I don't have any questions."

Carolyn looked at Deakins. "I stand by my partner. He's given me no reason to doubt him."

"There is no evidence of any wrongdoing here. We don't write up anything unless the court asks for it. Do you understand?" Carver got up and gathered his camel coat up in his arm.

Deakins sighed and shook his head. "I don't want to be the bad guy here, but we got standards, and I don't anybody in this room thinking we throw integrity out the window if the mood strikes us."

Alex stood up. "Captain, nothing like that happened today. The man was bad and he was reckless, and it all came back to bite him on the ass. He got what was coming to him and that's nothing but a fact."

"How this came about is not a problem for you," he challenged her.

"What do you mean by that? My colleague says that he took care of warning Rikers about the threat. All due diligence was followed. Ross started dealing with people who don't play. He hired someone to kill three innocent people, two of whom are in the room presently and he didn't pay up. He got what was coming. End of story. My nightmares died today, and once the fog clears, I'm going to feel nothing but relief."

Bobby stood beside her. "She's right, Captain and while I appreciate that you're trying to protect the integrity of the squad, I don't think that's going to be a problem. We all did our jobs today."

A bald man peeked his head in. "Logan here?"

Logan nodded. "Hey Graco!"

"Mike, I heard you were here, and I thought I would stop. Just wanted to explain why we couldn't get to Ross in time. The riot in the cafeteria was killing us, Man, and we only had so many resources to spare. I heard he bought it. Sorry about that."

"It's okay. I don't think anyone's going to lose any sleep over this. Thanks for telling me what happened. His lawyer is probably going to want a report on this."

Graco nodded. "We'll take care of it." He nodded once more and left.

"Feeling better, Captain?" Barek asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"No, now I'm just feeling stupid."

Logan shook his head. "Don't sweat it, Cap. They were all thinking the same thing. You were the only one willing to voice it. I'd like to see one person in this room tell me they weren't thinking that I left him out to dry." He chuckled. "Truth is I was on the fence about calling. I almost didn't, but I have more trouble living with my demons than anyone here seems to imagine. I couldn't live with hiding it. I would have confessed it to all of you over beers within weeks if I had done it, and I wasn't about to lose the best job I've had in years for that mope. The church never really leaves your blood I guess."

……………………………………………………………………….

Logan parked at her place and swiveled to look at her. She had been struggling to say something to him the entire trip, and he figured he'd give her one last chance to spit it out. Barek gave him a half smile. "Good work today, Partner."

"Thanks for sticking up for me."

"Sorry I doubted you."

He shrugged. "Your instincts told you what I was capable of doing, and they were right."

She nodded and looked down. "So I was thinking…maybe you want to come up. We could…uh, order a pizza, process everything that happened…you know, whatever."

He chuckled. "That was smooth, Barek."

"What? I offered you pizza."

"And whatever," he said, raising his eyebrows in that particularly infuriating way of his.

Her head shot up. "Well, whatever means whatever. It doesn't mean…uh, _whatever_."

"I better not."

"Why? You think I'm propositioning you, and you have to protect your virtue."

He smiled that big 'I got the world in my pocket' smile. "If I went up there with you right now, there'd be a misunderstanding in about five minutes. That's the kind of mood I'm in."

She snorted. "Okay, then is this particular to me or will any female do for you right now?"

"No Cookie, this is definitely about you. And we're tired and I'm feeling…a thousand things right now which tends to put me in a vulnerable spot. I mean, you're a looker. I knew that coming in. I just didn't know that you also came with heart and a brain and the courage of ten men. It's a little overwhelming right now."

"Wow! I didn't know. Can you work with me?"

"Hell, if Goren and Eames can do it with the amount of hormones that rise up whenever they look at one another, then I imagine that we'll be just fine."

She clicked her tongue once, and made to leave the car, but she stopped and looked out the window instead. "What if I told you that you turned out to be something of a revelation yourself. You play dumb, but your mind is as sharp as mine. And you got a heart that could fill the squad room, but you like to hide it. I feel fortunate to be one of the few who gets to see it."

"Geez, Cookie, you're steaming up my car windows. Better calm down there." He was gripping the steering wheel a lot more tightly than was necessary for someone in a parked car.

She chuckled. "I don't want to screw up what we have. I just want to spend some time with you. Take it slow. Get to know one another."

"You're not worried about office gossip or department policy?" He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"The gossip will be there whether we get together or not. And as for policy, well that's all it is. It's a good policy, but it's a guideline, nothing more."

"Captain could split us up."

She shook her head. "The captain's not going to know anything unless you're a talker."

"Not about this I'm not."

She smiled. "I'm thinking….pepperoni, green olives and onions."

"Nix the onions." His voice was almost a growl and she shivered a little in spite of herself.

She started playing with the glove compartment. "Truth is that I'm not really hungry…for pizza."

He reached over and captured the fingers which were methodically clicking the compartment open and shut. "There's a nice Puerto Rican place down the block. Why don't we go up for a bit and finish our conversation? Then I'll take you out for the best arroz con pollo in town."

"You like Puerto Rican?"

He brought her hand up to his face and kissed the palm. "Well, right now my preference is dark haired Polish Catholic with a hint of too many languages."

She smiled. "I could bring out Grandma Logan's nightie."

"Don't kill the mood, Cookie. Don't kill the mood."

…………………………………………………………………

"Are you sure there are no baby cows in there?" She leaned around his arm and looked into the pot.

"No, there are not. You have made your position on eating…'baby cows' quite clear."

"It's just that I took that trip when I was a kid to the farm and the cutest little baby cow-"

"Otherwise known as a calf," he said.

She looked up at him. "Whatever…anyway, this 'calf' licked my fingers, and had the biggest, brownest eyes, and I said to myself, 'Alex, you are never eating a baby cow again.' And I can say baby cow because that's what I thought it was and technically that is what it is."

"And you don't feel the same about lamb?"

She screwed up her face. "The lamb they had was dirty and made a lot of noise."

"So the lamb's life meant less to you."

She gave him a look. "Yeah, Freud, that's about the long and the short of it."

He chuckled. "Okay, well, for you, I am making my famous veal piccata with chicken instead."

She smiled. "I never had a boyfriend who could cook before."

He put down the spoon he was stirring with and turned to her. "So I'm your boyfriend, huh?"

She looked up at him. "Yeah, and my partner and my lover and my best friend and the man I dream about at night."

He nodded. "We had a pretty rough day, you know."

"And it's over, and he's dead and I am sorry that I was there to witness it, but I'm not sorry he's gone."

"Me neither." He put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "Do you think we can handle not having Jimmy around to keep us distracted from our feelings?"

She laughed into his shirt. "I don't think we're going to need old Jimmy Ross to keep us together."

"So you're saying that we're grown-ups and should act accordingly?" He whispered into her hair.

"I think you're ready for that, Goren, don't you?"

He answered by trailing his mouth down her neck and chewing gently on her shoulder.

She moaned and then sniffed the air. "Uh, Bobby, I think the baby cow is burning."

He smiled into her shoulder and reached back with a hand and turned off the burner. Then he surprised her by sweeping cooking supplies down to the end of the counter, and picking her, placing her on the counter. She giggled. He planted himself squarely between her legs. He reached over and captured her face. She wrapped her arms around his neck and groaned into his mouth. After a few minutes, of deft tongue aerobics, she pulled away. "I was never much into kitchens."

He responded by pushing her shirt past her torso and over her face. She squirmed her way out of it, and found her bra was snapped off before she could say another word. He looked at her with a smile and reached in to whisper into her ear. "I promise you, Eames. The kitchen is an experience. There's nothing like a counter to make up for a height difference."

The End


End file.
